The Return
by Peacockgirl
Summary: Without a driver, the Barn returns 25 years ahead of schedule. Reunited, Audrey and Nathan must find another way to stop the Troubles. Post 3x13 Thanks for the Memories. Chapter 17 - "I just realized something!" she exclaimed. "We've never been on a date!"
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** If I owned Haven, it wouldn't have ended on such a wicked cliffhanger. Or at least I'd know what was going to happen in season four.

**Author's note:** I just had to. That finale! Too many feels.

/*/

Audrey stepped into the barn and waited for something to happen.

She didn't know what the next twenty-seven years held for her. Would she simply close the door and blink out of existence? Would she die, as she so often described it? Would she go to sleep and wake up as another person, everything she'd felt and experienced as Audrey Parker gone just like her memories of Lucy Ripley and Sarah Vernon and who knew how many others?

Would it be over soon, or would she live those twenty-seven years? Perhaps her memory wasn't taken until it was time to leave the barn again. Perhaps she had twenty-seven years to remember and plan and mourn and ache, and none of it would matter because when she went back to Haven it would all be gone.

A few days ago she had hoped for the former scenario. Some last goodbyes and then a quick end. She didn't know how she could live twenty-seven years knowing when she saw Nathan and Duke again they'd be aged and she wouldn't remember them. Didn't like to think about how that's what they would go through regardless.

But now that James was in the barn that changed things. How could she wish away an opportunity to get to know her son? Her son – with Nathan. There had hardly been time to wrap her mind around that. She wished she could remember how that had happened. Sure, Howard had shown her, but watching like a voyeur with Nathan embarrassed by her side had been a poor, awkward substitute for firsthand experience. All she truly remembered from her past lives were a few minutes as Lucy in a crappy haunted house.

If she had a chance to spend twenty-seven years with her son, even if they'd both forget by the end, then surely she could live with every painful reminder of his father.

The inside of the barn looked the same as it had before – more like a sterile laboratory than an agricultural building. Nothing was this clean in Haven. Nothing was so cold.

"James," she called, and her voice echoed. There were so many doors and she had no idea where he could be. Maybe she had time to check every one and find him. Maybe she didn't.

"James, are you here?"

There was something strange about the air, but she ignored it.

She had just reached for the first door when her son came out of another one, down the hall.

He looked at her warily, and there was something about his expression and posture that was heartbreakingly familiar.

"Mom?" The word was uttered like a question, and she was surprised by how quickly his tentative tone brought tears to her eyes.

"James."

"Why are you here?"

She took a few slow steps toward him as if approaching someone Troubled. Wasn't this really just another case? One there hadn't been enough time to solve.

"Because that's what I do, right? Go into the barn."

"You could have stopped it."

"I wasn't going to kill Nathan!" That had never even been an option. What good would it be to avoid the barn if she had to live in a Haven without him in it – knowing full well that he should have been there? Maybe she should have considered it, if it would have ended the Troubles for good. But she hadn't. She'd sacrifice herself for this town and the good of everyone in it. But not him.

"I wasn't going to kill anyone."

He didn't say anything, but she could guess what he was thinking. He'd spent twenty-seven years thinking she'd been willing to kill her own son.

"Look, uh, I know we got off to kind of a bad start. And I don't even know why that happened because I honestly don't remember what I did as Lucy. But I know that it wasn't me who tried to kill you, because I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't sacrifice someone else for me. Especially someone I loved. Whatever happens I need you to believe that."

"I can't just flip a switch, you know. But I'll try."

She found herself nodding. Hopefully there would be time to convince him. If not, maybe they could get things right the next time around.

"So, do you know what happens next? Because I have no idea, except that in twenty-seven years I'm going to turn back up in Haven with someone else's memories, a new haircut and no idea that I've been there before."

"I think I was mostly asleep the last time. But it didn't smell like this."

"Yeah. It does smell like something's burning right?"

He nodded.

"Maybe we should figure out why?"

They started down the hallway together. As the smell grew stronger Audrey started touching the doors to see if she could find a source of heat. She couldn't detect any change in temperature, but when she touched one the white flickered into weathered wood beneath her hand.

"Whoa! Did you see that?"

"No."

"Touch the one nearest you."

James did. For a few seconds nothing happened. Then the white door appeared to be replaced by a wall which might have been part of an actual barn.

"Did this ever happen before?"

"No."

"Okay. Not following the plan. Great."

Soon the walls started to shift without being touched. After a couple of minutes the endless facility was gone, replaced by a large, colonial looking barn – which also happened to be on fire.

Perhaps she would be dying today after all.

"What do we do?" James asked her. She wished she had an answer, but she was out of her depth. The rules of the natural world didn't apply here, and her day had been filled with so much adrenaline and loss that she wasn't adapting as quickly as she normally did.

_You have the strongest intuition of anybody I've ever met_. Suddenly Nathan was before her, hands on her shoulders, looking unusually dapper in a black bowler hat. He was so close and so intense it took her breath away, and when she answered there was a strange cadence to her voice that wasn't her own.

"Audrey! Audrey, wake up." The hands around her now weren't Nathan's. James looked terrified, and Audrey tried to figure out why they were both on the floor, which was now covered in musty hay.

"What happened?" she asked groggily. Her head was killing her.

"I was hoping you could tell me! You just collapsed. And now your nose is bleeding."

When she wiped her hand under it her fingers came away dark and sticky. "A memory," she realized. "One of Sarah's memories. Something your father told me once." Seeing Nathan's devotion had filled her with resolve. She wasn't going to die without understanding exactly how this miracle beside her came to be – their child. This wasn't the end. "When we get out of this I'm going to tell you all about your father."

And then something came barreling into the barn.

Audrey pushed herself up and reached automatically for her gun. But it was gone. She'd left it with Duke. She stepped in front of James anyway, falling automatically into a defensive stance, and watched as the man pulled himself off the floor.

"Duke?"

"Audrey! Thank God. Are you okay?"

"You're not supposed to be here!" If she'd had a gun she wasn't sure that she'd lower it. She wouldn't let Nathan come into the barn with her. She certainly wasn't going to let Duke give up his life either. "Damn it, you were supposed to keep Nathan out. Not follow me yourself."

"There was a change of plans. Howard's dead, so no one's driving this thing. And if you hadn't noticed, it seems to be crashing. So Nathan sent me to get you out."

She could see the flames now, licking at hay that wasn't supposed to be there. Above her a beam creaked as the fire traveled upwards.

"Why didn't he come himself?" she asked.

Duke's face crumbled and she was sure her heart stopped beating for a few seconds. "Damn it Duke! Tell me what happened."

"After you went in the barn, Nathan started banging on the door, and then he pulled a gun on Howard, asked what would happen if something happened to him. I don't think he was planning to kill him – he just wanted answers. But then Jordan showed up and started shooting at Nathan. So he shot Howard, and I shot Jordan. And then this light started coming out of Howard and the barn started to break apart – and Nathan told me to get you out. So I jumped in."

"How bad were his wounds?" she demanded. She knew they had to have been bad to keep him from following himself, especially since he couldn't feel them.

"I don't know. Everything happened so fast. But he's tough. You know that. Bastard isn't going to give up easy. He'll be just fine as soon as he sees you again."

They had to get out of there, but all Audrey could see was Nathan bleeding out on the ground, suddenly able to feel the agony of his wounds, dying alone because even Duke had abandoned him.

"The two of you were supposed to take care of each other while I was gone!"

"Damn it Audrey, stop being mad at me and come over here." She wasn't sure if the barking sound she made in response was a laugh or a sob, but in a few quick steps they'd met each other halfway and she collapsed in his arms. There was blood on his shirt, but she closed her eyes and tried not to picture how it had gotten there. "Women!"

"Don't make me regret saying those nice things about you," she said, breathing him in and letting the familiarity steady her.

"I was so afraid you had forgotten already," he whispered.

"This is touching and all, but perhaps we can refocus on not burning to death." James voice cut through the moment and Audrey pulled away and looked back toward her son, who was scowling.

"That's actually a really good plan," Duke agreed. "Smart kid you've got there."

"I can't leave the barn. The Troubles won't go away if I do. Maybe this is what's supposed to happen."

Duke grabbed her shoulder. "Audrey, it's not. I told you. Something went wrong. The barn's breaking apart, and Howard is dead. If you stay here you may never come back at all. You might just die. You, and James, and me. Even if we don't, I did not sign up to flash forward twenty-seven years and then lose all my memories. I came here to get you out, because that's what Nathan asked me to do. So that's what I'm doing. There's no time to argue."

"What happened to this being my choice?"

"I'm sorry we got in the way of that. Okay, honestly I'm not, because I think you having to disappear every twenty-seven years just to help a bunch of freaks with strange supernatural afflictions is a cosmic load of crap. But I think it's even stupider for you to throw your life away when it may not even help. What if you die here, and you never come back, and the Troubles don't go away? Who's going to help all those people then?"

And even though he didn't say it, she knew what his next sentence was going to be. _Who's going to help Nathan_?

"You don't fight fair, Crocker."

"I know. It's part of my charm." He gave her a crooked smile, and she felt her resolve cracking. "There's got to be another way. Let's find it. All of us. Together."

She thought of the three of them in rare moments of calm, drinking beers down at The Gull or bickering at the police station. It was the only time she'd ever felt like she had a family. When she'd found out her days were numbered, that was the first thing she'd known she'd miss.

"Together," she repeated. No more of this every man for himself philosophy she'd tried since Duke had told her about the Hunter. Trying to keep Nathan at arm's length to make her disappearance easier. Spending time with Duke but rarely letting him in. Suffering alone.

"So how do we get out?" James asked.

"Fantastic question," Duke answered.

"How did you get in?" Audrey asked.

"The barn was breaking up. I just ran toward it. Got sucked in, I guess. Not the weirdest thing that's happened to me since I met you."

"Arla told me she tried to get in last time. She banged on the door but couldn't go through."

"That's what Nathan did. But the door was gone by the time I tried."

Audrey surveyed their surroundings. If it had been a natural fire they should have been roasted long ago. The flames had spread, but they didn't seem to be creeping much closer, even though the whole place looked like wood and straw. It had been something else entirely when she'd entered. Duke had said it had been breaking apart back in Haven, but the structure seemed relatively sound, considering. If it had been breaking apart perhaps they could have just forced themselves through.

"Howard told me the barn would only appear when I was ready to enter it," she said. It was hard to believe that he was dead. She had no idea where his allegiance lied in this twisted drama she was starring in, but once upon a time she'd thought he was her boss. Turns out he'd been manipulating her for decades. "And once I closed the door, it wouldn't open for anyone else. Arla. Nathan. Every other time I'd wanted to stay inside. Or had decided to, anyway. But maybe I'm still in control. Maybe I just need to tell it that I want to get out."

"So tell it that," Duke encouraged.

She thought of Haven, devastated by meteors, waiting for the Troubles to end, knowing peace and hope were only minutes or hours away – only to have that hope shattered when they didn't go. The Guard would be incensed. They'd want someone to pay. Would it be Vince, for making them leave instead of guaranteeing Audrey went away like she was supposed to? There would be panic, and the panic would cause more Troubles to manifest, and there'd be even more panic. And more Troubles. The Rev's men would see this as a sign from God that it was time for those who were Troubled to be destroyed instead of saved. And the only one left to pick up the pieces would be Nathan. Injured, devastated, alone. He was the strongest man she'd ever met, but he shouldn't have to carry this burden on his own. She remembered the way he'd felt when she kissed him, the conviction in his voice when he'd sworn he'd die before letting her go. No one had ever cared about her that much before, not in her false life as Audrey Parker and not in any of her previous incarnations – she was sure of that in a way she could not explain. Maybe that was the difference this time around. Maybe that could be enough to break the cycle and find another option.

"Please," she whispered, closing her eyes and letting herself imagine what it would be like to see Nathan again, how she would finally stop hiding and give him everything he deserved.

When she opened her eyes there was a door directly in front of her, and the flames around it had receded.

"Come on," she commanded, no longer afraid. There was no handle on the door, but she pushed and it opened without resistance, sending her stumbling into the cool night air.

She turned back once they all had left and watched the barn start to burn in earnest, the structure collapsing in on itself.

"That was kind of too easy," Duke said. She didn't know if it was his puzzled tone or just relief, but Audrey started to laugh and couldn't stop until she was out of breath and tears ran down her cheeks.

When she finally calmed down Duke pulled her into a tight hug. "Don't you ever do that to us again, you hear," he whispered, and she was shocked by how close he seemed to tears.

"Yeah, I'll try not to."

She pulled away and saw James lingering awkwardly in the distance. She wanted to hug him too, but wasn't sure how he'd take it. What kind of relationship had he had with Lucy, before he thought she'd tried to kill him? How had they discovered each other? How many good memories did they have before they'd been poisoned?

"Hey." She settled with clapping a hand to his shoulder. He did not shrug her off. "We're going to talk, and figure all this out. And I am going to tell you about your father. I just have to find him first."

"Wait. You know who his father is?" Duke asked.

Audrey nodded, gnawing on her bottom lip. Now that she and James were back, she was in for a ton of awkward conversations. "Ah huh."

"And?"

"Nathan," she mumbled.

"What?" he asked, though she wasn't sure if he really hadn't heard or was just deliberately drawing this out.

"It's Nathan."

The shock on Duke's face almost sent her into hysterics again. "Nathan? But you were Sarah and … oh. That dog! Are you kidding me? You have no idea how he lectured me on how we couldn't change anything. That we would break the whole space/time continuum! And then he leaves me with my grandfather and goes off – to find you. I cannot believe it."

"Yeah well, you can give him hell about that later. Just as soon as we know he's okay."

That sobered Duke quickly. "Yeah. Good plan."

It was a starry night, but none of them seemed to be falling. The barn appeared to have dropped them off at the same place it had picked them up, but Nathan was nowhere to be found. Jordan, Arla, and Howard's bodies were missing too.

"Hope they left us a boat," James said.

There were a few, as if Dwight had never bothered to finish cleaning up after the shootout, which bothered Audrey more than she dared admit. If the meteors had been hitting town she supposed a few stray boats were the least of his worries. Still, he was rarely anything but thorough, and someone had to come back and remove the bodies.

As long as Nathan wasn't one of those bodies.

"Hey," Duke said after they'd docked outside The Gull. It must have been late because the evening crowd was gone and the bar was dark and quiet. Audrey knew she could pull out her cell phone and find not just the time, but the date. But she wasn't ready for that yet. "Do you want me to take you to the hospital?"

"No." That would be the logical place to check first, but something was telling her it wasn't the right one, and Nathan had told her to trust her intuition. "I'm going to go to his place. If I don't find him – I'll come back here. We'll look together."

"Need a ride?"

"No. My car's here. Look after James for me?"

"Course." She didn't like the way she saw her uncertainty written all over Duke's face. "I meant what I said. Nathan's tough. He's still waiting for you."

She wanted so desperately to believe that. "Yeah."

She turned toward her son. "Hey kid," she called, unsure where the endearment came from when they looked nearly the same age. But it felt right. James looked up and gave her a puzzled smile.

"I need you to stay with your Uncle Duke for awhile. I'll be back in the morning."

"Uncle Duke?" the newly christened relation asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah. You were the fun uncle once before, remember? Just don't go tumbling off any balconies this time, Mr. Pirate."

"I'll have you know that I _was_ the fun uncle! Only some of that was the mind control. And I make an awesome pirate."

She gave him a patronizing nod, and he pushed her toward the car parked outside her apartment. "Go take care of him."

She nodded, waved to them both, and fished her keys from her jacket pocket.

Of all she'd seen and been through since she'd come to Haven, very little had terrified her as much as the drive to Nathan's house. The car's clock told her it was after two in the morning, and the vehicle seemed to run all right. She tried to tell herself it probably wouldn't if it had sat unused for twenty-seven years. She searched the darkened streets for reassurance that the barn hadn't stolen that much time. There were definitely subtle changes which might have resulted from rebuilding after a meteor shower – which certainly would have taken more than a few hours. But it didn't seem drastically different.

Even if he waited twenty-seven years for her it wouldn't change how she felt – just as long as he was alive.

When she saw his Bronco parked in the driveway she tried to bite back a sob. Unsuccessful, she pulled her legs to her chest and buried her head in her knees. Whatever he'd been through, no matter how long it had been, he didn't need to see her such a mess. But God, what a day it had been.

She'd never expected to see the end of it. To survive it.

She was done living in the shadow of her destiny. She'd stop the Troubles if they weren't gone, do everything she could to save the town. But she was done considering her life as collateral.

Her legs shook all the way to Nathan's door, but her knock was strong and certain.

Good thing too, because even so it took nearly five minutes to rouse him.

She was just starting to panic when she heard footsteps and a low, familiar growl on the other side of the door. "Damn it. Don't you know what time it is?"

She heard the locks being thrown. The door jerked open and there Nathan stood, barefoot in a pair of flannel pants and a grey t-shirt. He looked like hell. His hair was slightly longer and disheveled, but she couldn't see any grey. There were bags under his bloodshot eyes, and a faint scar across his forehead he'd never had before. He was pale and unshaven and smelled slightly of whisky. He was still the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

"Nathan," she breathed. She wanted to crack a joke to let him know everything was going to be okay, but she was too overwhelmed by the sight of him physically whole and emotionally broken. All she could manage was to utter his name like a prayer to a God she didn't believe in.

She watched his eyes widen into the shocked Wuornos expression she'd come to know so well. "Parker." No one called her that but him and she wondered, not for the first time, how he could make her last name feel more personal than her first.

But it wasn't long before he clenched his jaw and she could see his hope shutting down, just like every time she'd pushed him away when she'd really wanted to pull him forward.

"Are you real?" He was looking at her like he was a drowning man and she was a mirage, which in Haven was probably more likely than the truth. He sounded like a lost little boy, and she knew her fate was sealed. If the barn came for her now she'd never step into it again without him.

"Yes." When he didn't immediately believe her she reached out to run her fingers lightly across his scruffy cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned in slightly to her touch.

"Duke and James are at The Gull. After the shootout the barn started to burn, and Duke convinced us we had to go. I guess the barn had to listen to me. It let us out. But Duke told me what happened with Jordan. I was so worried about you."

He reached up a hand to cover hers where it was still resting on his cheek. "Dwight came back. Got me patched up. But you were gone."

Much as she wanted to, she couldn't apologize for something she still thought probably should have happened. But she did regret the agony it had cost him.

"How long has it been?" she asked. She couldn't run from that any longer, as much as she feared the answer.

His eyes opened, and she could feel the anguish radiating from them. She'd never meant to do this to him. It was why she'd fought so hard to keep him away when all she'd wanted for so long was to sink into his arms. "Two years."

It could have been worse. She'd do everything in her power to make it better.

"Then let's not waste any more time." With one hand already on his cheek it was easy to pull him down for a kiss. It was desperate just like the last time, but instead of shattering her heart seemed to be mending. There was no need to memorize each sensation, because this wouldn't be the last time they would do this. She tried to infuse him with the hope she now felt fluttering through her veins, the promise that no matter how lonely the last two years had been the next two would be filled with love.

When she ran her fingers along the nape of his neck his whole body trembled. When she finally needed to pull away to breathe she rested her forehead against his.

"The Troubles aren't gone, are they?"

"Nope."

"We'll need to fix that."

"Yeah."

He took a deep breath and she felt it shudder through him. "Can you fix me first?" he whispered.

She threw her arms around him, pressing as much of herself against him as she could, hoping he could feel it through their clothing. "I promise," she whispered into his neck. As the tension began to drain from his body, relief filled her heart and settled in her bones.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** _I really didn't intend to continue this, but after discovering Haven and watching all three seasons in about 3 weeks, these characters won't leave me alone. Have to make it to next fall somehow! _

_I do warn you – don't expect much in the way of plot here. I'm confident the writers have fantastic twists and turns in store, and I'm hoping they're not all incredibly angsty – but I'm not going to endeavor to solve the Troubles. Just provide some much needed Audrey/Nathan moments, some bonding amongst our favorite three Havenites, and maybe explore how their kid fits into all of this._

_Feedback is always greatly appreciated!_

*/*

Exhaustion hit her while she was standing in Nathan's arms. Her day had been seemingly endless before her deranged daughter-in-law had kidnapped her and forced her to start another one – which had fast forwarded two years and then kept on going. She felt like she could sleep for days. The way things were, six or seven hours would probably have to do. But her body was reminding her it wanted to start now, as nausea started to swirl in her stomach while heaviness pulled on her limbs.

When she tried to step back from Nathan's embrace he held on.

"Inside," she mumbled. Enunciating her words suddenly seemed like a monumental task. "Need rest."

He reluctantly released her. When she looked back at him he looked so forlorn she grabbed his hand and linked their fingers together.

The contact was like a spark that drove him forward. He followed her into the house.

"Need a little help here," she said, standing in the dark hallway. She'd never been in Nathan's house before, but it was nearly impossible to make out anything in the dim light. She'd have to search for his decoupage collection in the morning. In the meanwhile the situation made her a pretty poor leader.

"Bed. Now," she demanded.

She could see his eyes go wide, and she rolled hers in response. "For sleeping. I don't know where your bedroom is."

She watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "Right."

Now it was his turn to lead her down the hallway to a door on the right. He pushed it open and she took in the surroundings. Spartan in furnishings, but she'd never expected anything different. A bed. A nightstand. A dresser. She frowned at the half finished bottle of whisky on the nightstand. She'd have to pour that down the sink in the morning. There was also a picture frame. She picked it up and was shocked to see a faded image from the _Haven Herald_. It was a candid shot of the two of them, taken for the coverage of one of their early investigations. They were smiling a little more widely that was probably appropriate for two cops on duty. She remembered that he'd been regaling her with some ridiculous story of small-town Maine living. Hadn't even been the Troubles that had made it so amusing.

"Only picture of us I could find," he said, and she startled at the sound of his voice so close behind her. She hadn't noticed him follow her across the room.

It was sad to think that was true. She'd never been photo happy. Before coming to Haven she'd never had much worth documenting. Well – the real Audrey Parker hadn't, anyway. Who knew if she had ever had an existence outside of Haven? But this time around, those precious six months, were definitely photo worthy. Nathan had been her first friend, and then Duke her second. There had certainly been times when a normal person would have pulled out her iPhone and had a stranger snap a picture to capture a moment – but it had never occurred to her. By the time she knew her days were literally numbered their camaraderie was broken. There were hardly any photo ops when Nathan was sneaking off with Jordan and she was going off with Duke and they were deliberately speaking as little as possible. But it was sobering to think that she'd vanished and this was the only proof Nathan had that she had ever existed.

"We'll take more this time around," she resolved, putting the frame down. "Starting tomorrow."

She took a few steps back to yank off her shoes and her jacket. Nathan stood still as a statue, and when she caught his eye and flashed him a perplexed look he cleared his throat.

"I, uh, should go sleep on the couch." He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled a shaky breath. "But I really, really don't want to."

She couldn't decide if his chivalry was annoying or endearing. All she knew was it wouldn't fly tonight. "I think we're a little beyond that. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

She turned around to pull off her t-shirt and shuck off her jeans, leaving herself in a camisole and panties. She pulled the elastic from her hair as she spun back around, letting it escape from its bun and fall around her shoulders.

Nathan's jaw was practically on the floor, and she swallowed a snort as she advanced on him.

"Shirt off," she commanded, tugging at the hem.

It was fascinating to watch the blush creep up his neck. "We're not going to…" The sentence died in the air but its meaning struck straight to her core.

If only she wasn't so damn tired! But she'd be barely functional in a few minutes, and after all the time they'd spent dancing around each other – all the time he waited – their first time deserved to be better than anything either of them was capable of at the moment. She fully intended to blow his mind – and quite possibly short-circuit his sensation starved body. They just needed to be patient a little bit longer.

"Not tonight," she said, walking her fingers up his chest. She pushed herself up on her tiptoes and whispered, "Later," in his ear, deliberately blowing on his earlobe.

"Tease." She could hear his smile. It was the first time things had felt normal between them in months, and the coil of tension that had sat stalwart in her chest for nearly two months began to loosen. She had sorely missed their banter.

"You like it." She pressed her lips to his cheek, briefly, just because she could. "Now off."

"Why?"

"You'll find out. Now come on. Or I'll do it myself."

That wouldn't be wise, considering her resolve for later, not now. But damn if the image wasn't now in her mind. It seemed to be in his too, but after a few seconds he relented, pulling the shirt off with an easy gesture.

Leaving her eye level to a shirtless Nathan Wuornos, proving she hadn't exactly thought this through. It was a pretty fabulous view – all pale skin and well defined abs, an inch or so of the waistband of his black boxers visible above the pajamas slung low on his hips. But the number of scars made her ache, especially the bullet wounds on his shoulder and chest. Even if he hadn't felt them, the thought of anyone hurting him made her livid and heartbroken simultaneously.

"You're staring." His voice was so dangerously, deliciously low.

_You're exhausted, Audrey, remember that? Exhausted._

She wanted so badly to forget.

"Like you weren't looking at my legs," she joked, breaking the tension.

_Later_.

"Bed. Now," she demanded again.

He regarded her somewhat warily as he slipped under the covers, turning slightly onto his side to watch her.

She practically leapt at him, pressing as much of her body against his as she could. He froze, but she could feel his heart racing under her ear.

"This is why."

"Good plan," he croaked.

She shifted her head slightly to look up at him. He was blinking slowly, as if his mind couldn't quite make sense of all the sensations, so she gave him some time to process. But she knew she'd be asleep soon, so she didn't give him too long.

"Now I know it's probably been awhile, but usually the guy puts his arm around the girl." She reached out to pull on one of his arms to demonstrate, but quick as lighting he snaked them around her, and the strength of his grip took her breath away for a second.

When they were properly situated she tangled her legs with his, drawing her right foot across his toes and up the opening of his pant leg, inordinately pleased with the way it made his breath hitch and drew a low moan from this throat. She wondered if he could feel her bare legs against his flannel pajamas, her cami covered back on his bare chest, or whether it was only skin to skin contact that reached him. There'd be plenty of time to experiment later. _We've got time_, that strangely accented voice in her head whispered, and instead of making her nose bleed it made her smile.

"You okay, partner?" she asked, unable to stop the yawn at the tail end of the question.

"Better than okay." He sounded like himself again, not that broken thing drowning on his front porch a few minutes ago.

"Thank you," he whispered. His reverence wrapped itself around her, like his comfortable mattress and soft sheets and warm, strong arms. She was finally safe, and her body welcomed the bliss of finally being able to rest as her mind finally accepted that it could shut off for a few hours and the world wouldn't crumble without her or steal her away.

"We've got time," she told him as she let herself sleep.

*/*

_Unless real life gets in the way, there's almost certainly another scene or two coming._


	3. Chapter 3

Nathan drifted back to consciousness feeling pleasantly warm. He shifted deeper into the covers and kept his eyes tightly closed. Maybe he'd blow off the station and go in late. Dwight was constantly telling him to take some time off and he never listened. He was long overdue a break.

He couldn't remember the last time he felt this comfortable. His blanket was particularly soft today, and he was completely relaxed under it. He savored how the weight of it smothered his body with warmth, cocooning him.

But something was tickling his nose. He had just started to reach up and scratch it when he realized what was wrong with this scenario – or right.

He forced open his eyes and discovered that his blanket was Audrey Parker.

Shock sent him reeling upright, which dislodged his sleeping partner. His body immediately protested. Without her covering him he wasn't cold – he was simply nothing, and that absence was worse than the bitterest frostbite.

She blinked awake, eyes shifting around her surroundings until they locked on his. Her confusion melted into a soft smile and he thought he might hyperventilate, the way his lungs were seizing.

"You're here." This wasn't a dream. He never _felt_ in his dreams.

"Thought we established that last night."

Last night. He blushed at his state of undress even as he searched for a memory. Surely they hadn't … because surely he wouldn't forget that, even for a second.

But no. He'd been asleep and she'd showed up on his doorstep with some story about the barn and all he could care about was that her hair was the same color and she knew his name and he hadn't been expecting her for twenty-five more years. And then he'd been fairly useless as she led him to bed and wrapped herself around him.

"About last night…" He'd never meant for her to see him so shattered. But Haven had been hell since she disappeared. Everything _hurt_ but he couldn't feel a damn thing. Not the bullets lodged in his body or the chair leg he'd taken across the head when he'd got in a bar fight with a member of the Guard who wasn't pleased he'd kept the barn from taking the Troubles away.

She reached for one of his hands that was braced against the mattress. Suddenly he was alive again. "Are you okay?" she asked.

He swallowed. They'd gotten out of the habit of being honest with each other. "I wasn't. Will be now. Long as you stay."

She pushed some of her hair out of her eyes with her free hand. It was a tangled halo and there were dark smudges on her face but he'd never seen anything nearly as beautiful. He couldn't quite fathom that she was actually here. That after two year of absolute misery and two months before that of losing himself trying to keep her here she was – in his bed – not mad about Jordan or James or Duke. Just looking at him like she wanted to take away all his pain. Not realizing that she already had.

"Plan is to try."

"I won't let anyone take you again!" he swore. "I love you. I should have told you that every day, no matter how you pushed me away. I should have kept telling you and we should have worked together to figure out how to stop the barn. It doesn't matter if you feel the same. I love you, and I will not let you sacrifice yourself for this town. We will find another way."

"I do, though," she whispered.

He was so wrapped up in his diatribe he wasn't quite sure what she was responding to. "Do what?"

"Feel the same," she admitted. "Love you." She took a deep, shaky breath, and the hand covering his tightened. "I love you."

The joy he felt at her words was too much to be contained. He pulled her toward him, marveling at the warmth of her skin, the silkiness of her hair when he fisted a hand in it, and the softness of her lips as he instigated a kiss for the first time. She seemed to melt into him, and his brain was overwhelmed by the emotions and the sensations flowing through him simultaneously. Nothing in the world mattered but her. Her and the way she made him feel – which went so far beyond the physical, as outstanding as that was. His emotions hadn't been stolen by his Trouble, but he'd mostly lost them anyway when she wasn't around.

He wasn't entirely sure how it happened, but soon he was hovering above her, pressing her down into the mattress, and he suddenly realized where exactly this was going.

"Audrey," he breathed, the most coherent request for permission he could manage.

She smiled up at him, ran a hand feather light across his check, and said the unthinkable. "Whoa. We need to stop, babe."

"Stop?" he choked out. He was nearly certain that was what he heard her say, but that was not what her body had been implying. "Are you serious?"

"Like a heart attack. Which I might start having right about now, by the way." She pulled her camisole down to cover her stomach and tried to put some distance between them, but she was still trapped between his arms.

"Why?" The gentleman in him knew he needed to respect Audrey in this, but part of him couldn't decide whether to be annoyed or just disappointed.

"Because we have to go see Duke."

It was like she had thrown a bucket of water over him – back in the days that would actually have worked. He rolled away from her with a groan. "Please never mention Duke again when you're in bed with me."

She laughed, the minx, and he couldn't help but return the smile.

"He's waiting for us at the Gull. If we show up too late he'll know exactly what we've been doing. And you know we'll hear all about it. Do you really want to give him that satisfaction?"

He groaned at her choice of words. He didn't, of course, but the teasing would certainly be worth it. "Maybe," he growled, and her smile widened.

"Our son's waiting for us too."

"Our son," he repeated. He'd tried not to dwell too much on that while she was gone. It was another lost opportunity. He didn't know James Cogan enough to miss him, but the thought of having a child with Audrey that he'd never get to know and never get to raise with her rubbed salt into his shredded heart.

"Yep. We're going to have to talk about that, you know."

"Yeah." He wasn't looking forward to that conversation. He didn't regret what happened with Sarah – not the way he regretted Jordan – but he was sorry Audrey had found out through Agent Howard, of all people. And he still wasn't sure he could explain exactly why it had happened. He didn't want her to be mad or jealous. The reason he'd let things get so far with Sarah was because he'd been convinced that under the hair and the accent every iteration of Audrey Parker was exactly the same person.

"But not now, right?" he continued. "Because we need to get to the Gull."

"Right."

When she made no move to get out of bed his mind began replaying the last few minutes, trying to process retroactively. Something caught his attention that he'd originally missed.

"Did you call me babe?"

She blushed the most adorable shade of red. "That was weird, wasn't it? No more babe. Baby?"

He snorted, and she scrunched her nose and shook her head. "Definitely not. Honey? No! Sweetheart?"

She pushed herself into a sitting position and he could almost see the way her mind was racing. Her amusement enthralled him, even if it was at his own expense. "Muffin? No, muffins are overrated. Oh, I've got it. Cupcake!"

He couldn't stop the bark of laughter that tore from his throat. "Please no."

"Spoilsport. Cupcakes are amazing. Hmmm. How about stud?"

Truth be told, he didn't hate it. "Well, that is significantly more manly than any of the other options."

"This conversation isn't over, Wuornos."

He found himself actively hoping that it wasn't. He was certain that any moment she would force them to rise and face the day that was sure to be less blissful than this.

But instead of getting out of bed she scooted back toward him, laying her head on his chest. His arms came around her instinctively.

"Thought we had to go," he teased, both perplexed and relieved by this clinginess.

"We have a few minutes. We just don't have a few _hours_." Her final word was heavy with implication which buzzed through him like electricity. Parker had always known how to push his buttons. Apparently she was discovering a few new ways to use that talent. He found himself looking forward to it.

If the patterns she was tracing on his arm were supposed to be soothing they were having the opposite effect, but he didn't mind that either.

They spent a few minutes in silence, and Nathan couldn't remember the last time he had felt so absolutely content. He had almost drifted back to sleep when he heard Parker's voice somewhere near his heart.

"I never liked cuddling." He started to move his arm, thinking this was her way of telling him to let go, but she grabbed it and pulled it back in place. "Always used to make me feel trapped. There was never time to just lay around – I didn't like that it was expected of me. But this … makes me feel safe. And wanted. I could stay just like this for the rest of time and I don't think I'd mind."

He'd rarely heard her sound so vulnerable, and something compelled him to respond with an admission of his own. "I woke up this morning feeling warm. Such a little thing – but I haven't felt warm in years." There were no words to convey how much that meant to him. And he didn't want her to think that was the only reason this was happening – because she was the only one who could touch him and make him feel. Because that was just some miraculous gift that he didn't deserve. He'd started to fall for Audrey long before she'd kissed him on the cheek. It had been impossible not to. Her compassion, her spunk, her humor. The little ways she'd watch out for him and never treated him any differently when he obviously wasn't normal. There were times when he was by her side that he'd forget about his Trouble. Before she'd come to town there wasn't a waking moment that he wasn't aware how different he was.

"Audrey…" He wasn't given to long speeches, but he wished that he could write sonnets for her. He just didn't know how to string the words together. But something about the way she was smiling at him made him think that she already knew.

She grabbed one of his hands and placed it over her heart. "Do you feel that?" she asked.

He took a moment to savor it. "Yeah."

"So it doesn't have to be skin to skin?"

"That's stronger. But I can feel the cotton and your heart pounding beneath it."

He tried to sum up everything she made him feel in one single word. "Incredible," he said reverently, wishing she fully understood what that meant. One day he'd find a way to tell her. One day soon. "You're incredible."

He ran his fingers up her arm, starting at her wrist. It wasn't just that she made him feel. He could feel _her_. The way her soft skin turned to goose pimples under his fingers. The fine hairs and the absolutely intoxicating warmth that she gave off. Once he reached her shoulder he brushed her hair away and pressed a kiss to the juncture of her throat.

"How did you get to be so perfect?" she practically purred, her eyes heavy lidded.

No one had ever thought him worth much at all. Perfection was certainly never before used in the same sentence as Nathan Wuornos. "I'm really not."

"Close enough for me."

He had just decided that he was never going to let her out of his bedroom when she seemed to snap out of her trance. "And on that note …" She moved away before he could stop her and everything inside of him protested the distance, causing him to stand too. She took a few steps backwards, away from him.

"Time to go. But first you need a shower, mister."

"Join me?" The words fell from his mouth without thought. It didn't take him long to realize they weren't appropriate.

He looked down and shuffled his feet. "Sorry."

He was afraid of what the silence meant, but he couldn't bring himself to look at her until he felt her fingers on his chin. "Don't be. It's a great idea. One I really, really wish I could agree to. It just won't get us where we need to go anytime soon."

She brought her forehead to his, and it had the gravity of something monumental. Every time they got close there was always so much else happening. This morning it had felt like just the two of them, and he didn't want the world to intrude.

"Whatever happens today, tomorrow, next week, we'll face it together. We can't hide from what's going to happen – but we don't have to hide from each other either. When I say I don't want to be alone you just need to listen to me – and this time we will finish what we started here. I promise."

And just like so many times since they'd met, Audrey's presence gave him the resolve he needed to face the day.


	4. Chapter 4

Duke watched Audrey drive away before turning to the kid, who was eyeing him with a distrust so familiar he wasn't sure how he hadn't guessed his parentage immediately. He could see Nathan so clearly in his clenched jaw and scowl.

"Sure you should just let her go like that?"

"Your mother's a big girl. And damn closest thing I've ever seen to a superhero. She'll be fine. And trust me, she doesn't need a third wheel when she finds Nate."

"What if she doesn't find him? You said he was shot. And who knows how long ago that was. First time I went into that barn it was twenty-seven years until I came out again."

"Well aren't you a ray of sunshine. You get that from your father."

"How do you know my father?" he demanded.

"Nate and I grew up together here in Haven. He'd either tell you I'm the devil or someone good to have your back in a gunfight – depending on the day. Let's just say it's complicated."

"And my mother?"

Duke was used to dark tones conveying hidden meanings. "Are you asking me if I'm a threat?"

James shrugged his crossed arms. "Maybe."

Part of Duke wanted to be. The part that had grown up believing that you should grab whatever you want as quickly as possible however you can, and if you hold on then you deserve it. Nathan had fallen down on the job and Duke had been there when Audrey needed a shoulder to cry on and someone to fly across the country with. For the first time in his life he wanted to take care of someone else, and he knew he could do it.

It would be easy to wish that they were too late and Nathan was gone. Audrey would be inconsolable for awhile, but he'd be there to pick up the pieces. With Nathan out of the way Duke was fairly certain he could charm her. He'd turn her grief into something constructive and wouldn't let her wallow. And one day maybe she'd look at him the way he wanted her to. The way he'd pretended she was looking at him in Colorado.

Except that against all odds and reason he didn't wish that. Audrey loved Nathan; he'd heard the words from her lips and he'd known long before then. He didn't understand why she'd fall for Wuornos's awkwardness instead of his smooth moves, but she obviously had. And although it cycled more rapidly than the Troubles, he currently held no ill feelings toward his old friend. He'd wanted to shake him for pulling away from Audrey when obviously the two just needed to make out and make the most of the time she had left. But Duke had seen his devotion in his determination to keep her from disappearing and he knew Audrey's feelings were returned. Even as it killed him to know that Audrey would never be his, he was kind of glad for his friend. Because Nathan deserved happiness, and he'd had so little of it in his life.

Turned out being selfless was kind of a bitch. But so was everything Audrey had been through for the sake of this god-forsaken town. Least he could do was try it for her.

"No. The way those two dance around each other – it's like Shakespeare. They've got star-crossed lovers written all over them. Look at you – they've even got a cross-generational lovechild born before they were. It's pointless trying to get in between them. I know bad odds when I see them."

"And if the odds weren't so bad?"

"You know, I'm sensing a lot of hostility and I don't think it's warranted."

"Not warranted? Not warranted?" James started to pull at his hair and Duke caught a glimpse of the madness that had gripped Nathan once when Audrey had left him on Duke's boat and he'd started ranting about not being able to feel. "My wife, the love of my life, is dead! Not only is she dead, it turns out she was a serial killer who cut off people's skins and wore them. She sewed a bunch of people together, like a quilt, so she looked like herself. Before that, someone killed me, and then I spent twenty-seven years asleep in a barn, resurrecting or something, and then when I wake up my wife tells me it was my own mother. But she was a monster, and a liar, so I don't know who killed me, or why, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. And now some random man with a ponytail who has a crush on my mother tells me I don't have a right to be angry!"

"Okay," Duke said placatingly, drawing out the syllables as he raised his hands in surrender. "You definitely have a reason to be angry. Sorry. All of that totally sucks. But none of it is my fault. Except for the hair, which is cool nowadays, by the way."

James looked at him like he was the crazy one, but his breathing began to slow and he didn't launch into another rant, so Duke accepted it as a victory.

"Why don't we start over? Pretend we just met. Hi. My name is Duke. Duke Crocker."

"Crocker!" James sneered, and Duke realized his mistake too late – this man had spent time with Lucy.

"Geez. Yes. Look. I know—"

"Your father—"

"I know! My father tried to kill Lucy, and my grandfather tried to kill Sarah. And technically I'm supposed to kill Audrey. That was so, like, three months ago. But here's the thing – my old man was an ass. I didn't like him much when he was alive, so when he showed up as a ghost and told me I was supposed to kill my best friend I decided, 'hey, I have free will, and that's stupid, so no thanks.' And me and your parents have been through all this already. Audrey trusts me, and Nathan trusts me – sometimes – and you can ask them about this tomorrow."

He didn't know how he expected James to respond. But it wasn't the way he did. "Lucy used to babysit you."

Duke laughed. Sometimes he remembered that – the strange woman with the long, dark hair who would occasionally show up instead of Vanessa who always told him that he could be anything he wanted – but if he didn't specifically search for the memories they seemed to hide in his subconscious. "I know. This town is so weird."

It was a monumental understatement, but exhaustion was beginning to hit him and he was finding it hard to be clever. "Look, it's late. I don't think Audrey will be back tonight, but she'll call me if she needs us. We should get some sleep. I'm sure the shit will hit the fan tomorrow. That's usually how things go around here."

"We're going to sleep in this saloon?"

"Hey. The Grey Gull is a restaurant, not a saloon, and I happen to own the place. Legitimately. And Audrey rents the apartment upstairs. I don't think she'd mind if you stayed there. I'll crash on the couch in my office."

James followed silently as Duke retrieved his spare key from inside the restaurant and then led him up to Audrey's apartment. "I really hope there's not still a dead guy in here," he muttered as he unlocked it, remembering finding Mario on the floor and Audrey gone.

But the apartment was undisturbed, and Duke allowed himself to survey it quickly, letting the Audrey-ness of it all sooth him. She wasn't much for decorating or accumulating stuff but she'd still made the space her own. They'd spent a lot of nights out on her deck, nursing a couple of beers while he searched for ways to distract her from her destiny and make her smile.

He had to stop thinking of that. Shaking himself from the reverie, he gave a brief tour. "Couch, bedroom, bathroom." It was a small space, and self-explanatory to navigate.

Duke was about to leave when he realized what had been bothering him since the two of them had been left alone together. "Hey, do you feel all right?"

James looked back at him skeptically, as if trying to figure out how that was a trick question. "Uh, yes. Why?"

"Because you didn't, last time. You got sick, and Arla had to bring you back to the barn. But I don't think that's going to be an option anymore."

"I feel fine. A little tired, that's all."

"How long did it take before?"

"I didn't feel quite right when I woke up. After three or four hours I could barely move."

"It's only been what – an hour? Maybe I should stay close."

"That isn't necessary," James protested.

"Look, if anything happens to you Audrey will kill me. Not literally," he clarified. "But first she'll yell at me, and then she'll make me feel so guilty that I'll wish I was dead. So if you start feeling strange – at all – you need to come down and wake me up and we'll have to figure out what to do."

"Yes, Uncle Duke."

Duke chuckled. "So you do have a sense of humor after all. I'll keep that in mind. Good night."

He'd never felt so excited to sleep on a couch. It had been an endless day, and like he'd told James he had a feeling things in Haven were going to be even dicier than usual for quite awhile. He was still worried about Nathan, still anxious about how much time had passed while they'd been gone. But such concerns would have to wait until the morning.

/*/

He awoke to his cell phone buzzing and snatched it groggily from the table. The message was from Nathan's number, but the smiley face after: "We'll be over in 30 mins. Breakfast, please?" seemed like Audrey's handiwork.

"Anything 4 u, sweetheart," he texted back, hoping Nathan would see it. He'd tried to put on a brave front for Audrey, but he'd been worried about Nathan. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to forget the way he'd collapsed in his arms, eyes wide with shock and desperation. He wasn't sure which was more frightening – all the blood or the fact he'd charged Duke with rescuing Audrey instead of attempting to go after her himself. Without pain to stop him, he must have been in bad shape not to fight his wounds.

But if Audrey was swiping his phone and using emoticons then surely everything was well. He re-read the message, just to reassure himself, and noticed the timestamp in the bottom corner.

"Shit!"

They'd been gone two years. Duke ran a hand through his hair and tried to fathom that. He'd left Haven for longer than that back before the Troubles returned, but he'd traveled the world in that time – smuggled, swindled, even gotten married. This time he'd spent half an hour in a burning barn, and that was it.

Nathan had spent two years alone, picking up the pieces.

He didn't envy the guy one bit.

Feeling unsettled, Duke made a few calls before going upstairs to check on James. He was half afraid he'd find him passed out and feverish. Instead he found him sitting on the couch halfway through one of Audrey's vampire novels.

"Bet they didn't have those in the eighties," Duke said with a laugh. James blushed and shut the book, turning it over so Duke couldn't see the cover. But the damage was done. Duke knew the kind of drivel Audrey read. He'd teased her about it more than once.

"Is it normal now for women to idolize falling in love with monsters?"

"Apparently. Though everyone should just move to Haven. They'd get over that real fast." Duke shook his head. "How you feeling?"

"Fine. Normal."

"Great. I got a text from Audrey. She found Nathan. They'll be over soon."

James cocked his head. "A text?"

"Man. Someone's going to have to give you a lesson on the twenty-first century. It's like a note, on my phone."

"Your phone sends you notes?"

James confusion was too funny. "Just wait until someone shows you the internet." Duke realized that would probably be him, and found himself not minding.

"I'm going to make us some breakfast. Come down when you want."

One of his contacts had dropped off some rations while he was upstairs, and he grabbed the bags and headed to the kitchen. He was a little afraid to see what state the place would be in after two years, but the kitchen was tidy, albeit a bit dusty. He'd told the kid he'd owned the place – but that had been two years ago. He had a few loans, and after two years of missed payments surely the bank had come calling. It was curious they hadn't bothered to clean out the apartment upstairs. But it was quite likely if they lingered too long they'd run into the new owners. The uncertainty of that excited him—he'd be sure to cause a scene—but he'd have to figure out a way to get the place back. Maybe he was going soft, but he was fond of the Gull, even if he had other ways to stay afloat.

Assuming he hadn't lost his boat too.

The cooking soothed him, as it always did. Sometimes, as Audrey pulled him deeper and deeper into the nonsense with the Troubles he'd disappear into the kitchen for the night and help the chef with the orders just to clear his mind.

Everything was nearly ready when he heard the restaurant door open and Audrey call, "Anybody home?"

Duke turned off the griddle and emerged from the kitchen to find Nathan and Audrey hand and hand in the doorway. She was grinning so widely it was impossible not to smile back, but Nathan was surveying him with some intense, awkward gaze he couldn't interpret. But he looked whole and fairly well, and Duke figured maybe it wouldn't be a bad day after all.

"Morning." It was early afternoon, actually, and Duke considered making a comment about what had kept them occupied for so long, but he decided to let it pass just this once. Truth was they deserved some time alone together, and he'd been asleep until she texted him anyway, so it's not like he'd expected an early start.

Audrey stepped forward and Nathan followed until they both settled on stools at the bar. "It's good to see you, Nate."

"Likewise." His gaze may have held volumes of meaning, but he had apparently reverted to his typical monosyllables.

Audrey rolled her eyes and leaned her head on his shoulder. "Please tell me breakfast is ready, because I am starving!"

They were interrupted by the door opening again as James entered. Nathan and Audrey turned around to look at him and everyone froze.

Duke got the feeling everything was going to be extremely awkward for a very long time.

"Hello," Audrey said in that tentative tone she always used when approaching someone who was Troubled.

"He's okay then?" James asked, staring pointedly at Nathan.

"Yep," Nathan answered.

The discomfort was palpable, and Duke wanted so badly to laugh. "Okay. Breakfast, coming up!" he chirped, turning back into the kitchen.

When he emerged again with three plates of waffles James had taken a seat next to Nathan. He set them down in front of James, Audrey, and the empty place beside her and watched as Audrey's face lit with delight and James's turned into a scowl. "I prefer pancakes," he sulked.

Duke couldn't stop his laughter at that. "Course you do," he said before turning back again.

He emerged with a pitcher of maple syrup and a heaping stack of pancakes, which he set in front of Nathan. He turned to James. "Maybe your old man will share."

"You told Duke," Nathan said in an even tone that didn't betray how he felt about that.

"Yep," Audrey replied.

Duke was about to take a seat and start his own breakfast when Nathan reached out and grabbed his wrist. "Thank you," he said, and Duke shied from the sudden heaviness of his tone.

"I'm going to let you in on a little secret," he said, leaning close. "It's the same recipe."

To his right, Audrey snorted.

"Not for the pancakes." The admission hung in the air, and Duke couldn't retreat because Nathan was still holding on. "For bringing Audrey and James back."

A year ago Duke would have had a smart-ass comment waiting on deck, but this morning his wit deserted him in the face of Nathan's raw honesty. He stood gaping for a few beats too long before managing a sincere, "You're welcome."

Nathan released him and he scurried back to his seat.

Audrey's grin was wide and a little bit cheeky. "My guys, getting along. Must be a day for miracles." She slipped a hand into her jacket pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She put her arms around both men and held the phone out in front of them. "Smile," she commanded, and the phone was flashing in his face before he really knew what was happening.

"What was that for?" Duke asked, trying to blink the spots from his eyes.

"Just something I want to remember."

Suddenly he wanted to pinch himself for not putting it together sooner. "I've got some pictures of the last eight months, you know." He pulled out his own phone and flipped through the photos. "You at your birthday party, before people started getting killed. Nathan showing off the worse dance moves ever the day he got demoted. The two of you sitting at my bar, making goo goo eyes at each other."

"That isn't—" Nathan started, but when Duke pushed the phone in front of him and he saw the photo in question he couldn't deny it. They'd come by for drinks after a long case, and the way they'd been looking at each other Duke had expected to find Nathan's Bronco still there the following morning. But apparently Wuornos was incapable of making a move even if the opportunity was looking him right in the eye.

He brought out a pot of coffee and watched as Audrey pulled it from Nathan's hands, pouring him a cup and then testing it before setting it in front of him. "Give it a minute," she advised, and Duke was struck by the intimacy of the gesture. Yet there was no awkwardness in it, as if it was something they'd already done countless times. Duke had forgotten that Nathan wouldn't be able to feel temperature.

They spoke of trivial things while they ate, and Duke appreciated the levity that had become so hard to come by. At one point he caught Audrey silently snickering, and from the glances she kept sneaking his way he got the strange suspicious she was laughing at him.

"What's so funny?"

She giggled, and then covered her mouth with her hand and shook her head. "I'm sorry. It was an awful day, but I keep thinking about how excited you were to make Chris Brody waffles over and over again."

Duke scowled, even though it was good to see Audrey laugh. "I cannot believe neither of you told me about his Trouble."

"That's because it was hilarious," Nathan deadpanned.

Nathan still had half a pancake left. He slid it over to give to James, but once their plates touched James reached out a hand to stop him. "It's okay. You eat it."

But Nathan's eyes had gone wide and he'd frozen in his tracks.

James narrowed his. "Are you okay?"

"I felt that."

"Yeah. Sorry. But I'm full. You should finish those."

"No. You don't get it. I don't – I can't feel anything."

Now Audrey's eyes had gone wide and she clutched onto his shoulder.

"What?" James asked.

"That's my Trouble."

"You can't feel anything? Just me?"

"And your mother."

There were a lot of comments Duke could have made about that, but Audrey blushed and he let it go.

"You've never lost your sense of feeling? Even temporarily?"

"No," James answered.

"Thank God," Nathan said, voice thick with relief. "Troubles usually run in families. They kick in during times of emotional stress. But if everything with Arla and the barn didn't set you off then maybe you're okay."

"Maybe he got Audrey's Trouble instead of yours," Duke suggested.

"I asked Howard if I was Troubled," Audrey said. "He said I wasn't."

"He also said he was your boss at the FBI. Are we really believing that guy now?"

"One way to know for sure."

Nathan reached out to stop her but Audrey was too quick. She ripped off a scab on the top of her hand and then pressed the bleeding sore against Duke.

The reaction was instantaneous. He felt the surge of adrenaline, the power coiling in his muscles and the weird pressure in his eyes. He gripped onto the bar and took steadying breaths, waiting for it to pass.

"Don't like that," he finally muttered when his head began to clear.

"Sorry," Audrey said

"What's going on?" James asked.

"Duke gets like that when he touches the blood of a Troubled person."

"So if Audrey's Troubled, did she come to Haven that way?" Duke pondered.

"No. The shadow killer," Nathan said. "He had her and the Teagues cornered, and she called me for backup. It was after that I noticed I could feel her. She tackled me when we first met, and I didn't feel anything. And Hannah's boy wrapped her in a cocoon on our second case. She didn't come here with the Trouble. It kicked in, like with everyone else."

"So what does that mean?"

"No idea. But I know the first people I'm going to ask."

"They won't talk to you," Nathan warned. "They've been pretty mad ever since everything with the barn went south. Vince is in hot water with the Guard, and Dave's barely speaking to him."

"Well, they're going to talk to me, one way or another. Cause this time I've got an answer for them."

"Before you head off on that crusade I've got a present for you," Duke said. "Close your eyes."

"Really?" Audrey asked.

"Really."

He made sure she wasn't peeking before he went back into the kitchen and returned with a white pastry box. She felt out the dimensions before opening her eyes and flipping it open with a squeal: one dozen perfectly frosted cupcakes from Rosemary's.

She hopped off the stool and threw her arms around him. "Thank you! This has been such a cupcake week."

"I kinda figured," he said, taking advantage of the rare opportunity to breathe her in. If nothing else he could still make her smile.

She'd devoured two of them quicker than he thought humanly possible before she realized courtesy dictated she should share. Duke declined the offer; he'd had enough sugar in his breakfast to last all day.

"Cupcake?" Audrey asked Nathan, but when he told her "No thank you," she started giggling. He let her go on for a few moments, caught between a frown and a smile. "Shut up," he finally said.

Duke was obviously missing something. And he so didn't want to know.

When Audrey passed a cupcake to James he took it. He removed the wrapper carefully and then turned back to Audrey with a searching look. "Lucy loved cupcakes," he said.

"There are certain things that are always the same, no matter her memories," Nathan said, and Duke was shook by his certainty. He'd met Sarah, but he couldn't honestly say she and Audrey were the same. The hair and the accent and the fact she and his grandfather were trying to kill each other had all been a little distracting.

"Well, it's nice to know that I always have good taste."

He wasn't sure how she lived with the knowledge that she'd been so many people, caught in a perpetual cycle of borrowed time. It was no wonder she'd begun to unravel once he'd found out about the Hunter – but she still always tried to act so strong.

"I'm going to head upstairs. I need a shower and a fresh change of clothes – feels like I've been in these forever."

He could already see her mind racing, ready to launch her into the next crisis the Troubles presented. He didn't feel ready for that; he didn't know how she could possibly be. "You can take a day off, you know. Maybe spend it in bed."

Nathan choked, and Duke appreciated the opportunity to laugh. "I'm sorry guys, I tried to be good – but really."

Audrey shook her head, but she wasn't smiling. "I'll have you know the last time I took a day off Haven did get caught in a time loop, so the theory that the world won't crumble if I'm not working is not necessarily sound. And we may be back but this is far from over. We have to figure out how to stop the Troubles – and that means finding a lot more answers than we were able to before."

She grabbed her cupcakes and practically stomped off. Duke waited until she'd shut the door and was definitely out of earshot before turning to Nathan. "Is she okay?"

"Think so." Nathan stared at the door she'd left through. "She's worried about what happened in Haven while she was gone."

"What did happen?"

Nathan shook his head. "Nothing good."

Duke would help them pick up the pieces but he didn't envy them the responsibility. If not for Audrey he'd get the hell out of this town, his father's last request be damned. There had been some allure in Arla's promise that if Audrey was gone, the Troubles would stop. He didn't want Audrey gone, but he did want life to go back to normal almost as much as he wanted her to stay. It wasn't right that he'd been in far more danger in his tiny hometown than when he'd been smuggling contraband around the world.

"Let me know what I can do."

"You know, after two years those parking tickets are going to be pretty outrageous."

"This isn't about that." He was surprised that he was able to admit it, but it seemed like time he and Nathan stopped bullshitting each other. "Audrey got them all thrown out a few weeks before we left, anyway."

"Then what's it about?"

"If we're going to stop this thing we need to work together this time. All of us." He glanced significantly at James, who was trying to look inconspicuous as he eavesdropped. "We made a real mess of it last time. Not trusting each other. Keeping secrets." He couldn't stop his gaze from going to Nathan's arm, where he knew that damned tattoo was hidden under his shirt. There had been few things in his life that had hurt more than seeing it on his friend's arm.

Nathan covered the offending area with his other hand, as if that could hide what he'd done. "I had my reasons."

"And so did she. Doesn't matter. It didn't work out so well. That Jordan. She turned out to be a classy broad. Shooting you in the back. Literally."

"That's none of your business," Nathan growled.

"When Audrey came crying to me about it, it kind of became my business. And it was my business when I had to catch your bleeding body and leap in after her because you couldn't."

He expected Nathan to slug him. Normally he was all for a good brawl to work out some aggression, but fighting with Nathan was so unsatisfying since Duke was the only one who felt the repercussions.

But Nathan just stared at him with his jaw clenched, daring him to continue.

"Just don't hurt her again. That's a warning."

He held Nathan's gaze for a few tense seconds. Once he was convinced he got his point across he turned to gather up the dishes.

"Look, I need to figure out what happened to the Gull while I was gone, but really, call me if there's anything I can do."

"You don't have to worry about the Gull." There was something odd about Nathan's voice, like someone was pulling a confession from him.

"I think the laws of modern economics would say differently, but don't worry, I'll figure it out. No one came to kick us out to start the grills for lunch, so maybe it didn't get sold. Though really, not sure why anyone wouldn't want to buy my baby – unless they thought it was haunted or something."

"Can't buy something when the owner's not selling."

"Yeah, but banks tend to get in a selling mood long before two years pass."

"Not if they're getting their payments."

The truth clicked and left him staggering.

"Nathan…" Because no one did things like that for him. Sure, his father had given him a boat once, in a roundabout way, but that had come with a charge to continue the family legacy as a Trouble killer. He was sure Nathan's strings wouldn't be nearly as dastardly.

"You went after Audrey. For me. Least I could do was make sure your life was still in order when you got back."

"Even if it took twenty-seven years?"

"Hope you negotiated better terms on your loans than that. I know how much you overcharge for booze."

Duke ran a hand through his hair, unsure of what to say. A few minutes ago he'd read this man the riot act and now he owed him so much more than pancakes.

"I can write a check but I don't know how to run a restaurant, so I had to close the place down. Your staff had a damn good end of the season party, though. And the _Rouge_ is down at the docks. Someone checks on her every once in a while to make sure she's still seaworthy."

"Thank you." There was really nothing to say besides that, but he was aware how insufficient it was.

"You watched out for her when I couldn't." And it was more than that moment with the barn. It was Jordan and the Guard and Colorado, and changing her locks and bringing her cupcakes and making her smile while he was buried in some infiltration mission that got him nowhere.

"We'll keep her here this time," he swore, because it would always come down to Audrey now, and he realized he was fine with that. He'd never before had anything to fight for except himself. Between the two of them there was nothing that could tear her away again.

/*/

_**Author's Note:**__ This chapter was also supposed to include a Nathan/James scene, but it got too long. Stay tuned for that … and possibly a whole lot more if people are still interested. Turns out this might have a plot after all._


	5. Chapter 5

Duke left shortly after Audrey, claiming a need to clean up the kitchen. Nathan had never known Duke to leave anything for honest work, but he could understand why he'd want to flee the heaviness of the understanding that had passed between them.

And then there were two.

His fully grown son studied him over a few forlorn pieces of pancake. It was almost enough to send him back into the kitchen with Duke. "Well, this is still awkward."

He was hoping it would make the kid crack a smile. But Nathan rarely got what he hoped for.

"Look, I'm not some orphan who grew up dreaming of the perfect parents." Nathan couldn't help but think of Audrey's rare vulnerability when she had told him of that very fantasy. "I had a normal, happy childhood. The Cogans raised me as their own. I was twenty-five before they told me about the woman who showed up out of the blue and gave me to them."

"Sarah." The reverence with which he said her name was automatic. The realization of how lonely and scared she must have been, unwed and pregnant – because of him – came a few moments later. But the shame was counteracted by the sight of the man sitting next to him. The man they'd been searching for before Nathan had ever gone to the 1950's. As if he and Sarah had been inevitable. He wasn't sure he liked that. But if he was bound to her, throughout the ages, would he really mind the sacrifice of free will?

"Yeah. Sarah." James reached back to rub his neck, and Nathan recognized the gesture he couldn't kick even though he didn't feel it. "They said all she'd asked was that I come looking for her in 1983. Not earlier. Not later. Had to be 1983. And I had a perfectly fine life in Colorado, but the whole thing was so mysterious, I couldn't not go." He started to laugh, but it was a bitter sound that caught in his throat. "Some mystery all right. Now that's all I have left. I don't need parents. I just want some answers."

Nathan recognized the broken desperation, and he hated to see it in someone he was going to love. He also knew it wasn't easy to dispel – especially since there would be no miraculous return of everything his son missed. But he'd never had much use for patronizing. "We don't have many of those. But we could use help finding some."

Their eyes locked, and Nathan couldn't help cataloging every bit of Audrey and himself that he could find. He had a son, and that son was almost his own age, and a former version of Audrey was his mother, and that was all staggering. But what he found more striking than any similarity in gestures or features was that while James was willing to let him off the hook for parenting he didn't want to take the out.

"What year is it now?" James looked away first and Nathan let him retreat.

"2012."

"Guess it isn't likely my folks are still alive."

It hurt to hear him refer to someone else as his parents, and that was ridiculous and illogical but it was still true. "June Cogan is. Least she was about a year ago."

Hope and confusion made him look younger. A boy on the brink of manhood, needing his father's guidance. He would have given it. Always. "Why do you know that?"

"I went to Colorado to look for a way to bring you and Audrey back. But I didn't learn anything. Alzheimer's has her pretty far gone. She had no idea what I was talking about. Except when I mentioned you."

Nathan didn't tell him how she was convinced he was dead. Whatever conclusions he'd drawn – or hadn't – couldn't really be worse than reality.

"I could get you a ticket to fly out and see her. We're not likely to solve this any time soon. I'm sure Audrey would go with you. Or I could, if you want."

But they hadn't established such level of intimacy. The gesture was too much, too soon.

"And my father?"

It was like a stab to the gut, in a time when he could feel it.

Nathan swallowed, tried not to let the pain show. Not his place to make the kid feel guilty. He'd lived his life, and Nathan hadn't been there. Hadn't been born yet.

"Died a couple years ago. Seems like they were running a safe house for the Troubled, which makes me think they did know something about all this. But I don't know what."

James didn't respond, and the silence quickly turned suffocating. Nathan had never been one for empty words but he felt the strongest need to say something. "They seemed like good people. I'm glad they were there for you, and I'm sorry that you've lost them."

"How many people did Arla kill?" James interrupted, and the sudden change of topic made Nathan wish the silence would return.

He hadn't thought of her in a long while, but the mention of her name brought it all back – that final, terrible, almost unsolved case. The revulsion when they'd found the vats of skin and mass grave. The grief at the deaths that hadn't been anonymous. The terror every time she'd attacked or taken Audrey. How distraught Audrey had been as Rosalyn's death. How that had been when they'd started to unravel. He couldn't help but wonder how things would have been different if he'd shown up for pancakes and found Audrey waiting for him like they'd planned. If they would have been able to face the truth about the Hunter together or whether she still would have pushed him away when she learned her days were numbered.

His son shouldn't have to carry the guilt of all of that. "I'm not sure you really want—"

"Don't bullshit me! I didn't ask Lu-Audrey because I didn't want her to sugarcoat it—"

"I'm not sure that she would." Audrey had lost more to the Bolt-Gun Killer than he had, and she was as protective as a black bear.

"Then I will ask her."

"Thirteen," he answered. Audrey didn't need to relive that horror, and his son deserved to hear the truth so he could start to move past it. "That we found, anyway. Could have been more. And a couple were friends."

"Why?" Nathan's heart broke at the way the word seemed to strangle James. But he needed to be honest.

"Best we can figure, she was trying to get to you."

James turned away, clutching both hands to his head, and Nathan let him be even though he could see his shoulders shake with not so silent sobs. Nathan had learned at a young age that this world was a cruel place, but knowing that didn't make it any easier.

When James turned back his eyes were red but his tears had dried.

"There's one thing I can't understand. Supernatural barn? Sure. People who can control the weather or make your nightmares come to life – why not? I saw a lot of weird stuff spending time with Lucy. _There are more things in heaven and earth than can be seen in your philosophy."_

"Didn't take you for a Shakespeare guy."

James' response started shaky, but gathered vehemence, like a snowball rolling down a hill. "Arla was an English teacher. She used to make me read Hamlet with her when she was writing her lesson plans." He closed his eyes for a moment before he continued. "We grew up together. I've known her since we were four. I can't pinpoint the moment I fell in love with her. It just became … implied. We got married a couple years out of high school. And we were happy. When I told her I had to go to Maine she finished the school year and then she followed me. She wasn't even from Haven. I don't understand how the town did this to her. I don't understand how the woman I loved could kill so many people – and take their skins. If she was always a monster how could I not have seen it?"

In that instant he wished James had ignored Sarah's plea and never come to Haven. Even if it meant he never knew that he had a son, Nathan would have saved him from the truth of this ugly town if he could.

"That's what the Troubles do. They take normal, decent people and make them capable of despicable things. I've seen it time and time again. And it's usually not even the Troubled person's fault, but people die anyway. You can't blame yourself. Maybe we can't even blame her."

"Then who do we blame?"

"Your mother will find out." Maybe it was weird to call Audrey that when they still hadn't talked about Sarah, but he couldn't help it. The thought flooded him with warmth just like her hand on his face. He'd been too numb for too long not to take what was offered.

He looked down, giving James a chance to reason that out without scrutiny. When he spoke again he was far more composed, with the curiosity of an FBI agent dropped into a bat-shit crazy town which all the locals claimed was normal. "You say the Troubles change people. What did they do to you?"

Audrey never let him shy from the hard questions. She thought to ask the things no one else cared to know. And here she was, shining out of their son's eyes and Nathan had never thought himself a lucky man but this was something he'd never seen coming.

"I was eight the first time the Troubles came. At first I thought I was invincible. Nothing hurt. I could play as hard as I wanted. Didn't matter if I broke bones. But it didn't take long to learn that people are afraid of what they don't understand. The other kids made sure to remind me I was different. Pulled pranks. Called me names. The adults were worse, talking about sin and curses. And once the novelty wore off I missed what I'd always taken for granted. A damp breeze off the beach. The warmth of my mother's chicken noodle soup. I got sullen, and tried to stay away from people, and then they went away. But I was terrified that they would come back – that I would go back to being a freak. It was always there, the feeling that there was something wrong with me that I couldn't fix. That the Rev was right – that I was being punished by God for something I hadn't even done. Then they did come back, and it was worse than I remembered. Every day it felt like I was dying from the outside in. That I was already a corpse, but no one had bothered to put me in a coffin. At first I was so angry. But that faded. All my emotions did. There was no use railing against fate, or whatever caused the Troubles. There was no use in anything. But I kept getting up, going to work, because all I could do was hold on and hope that maybe they'd go away again, and I wouldn't still be alive when they came back. And then your mother came, and she saved me."

"Because you could feel her." There was something disapproving and protective in his tone. Nathan was glad for it; Haven wasn't safe, and he would need help looking after Audrey. But he'd come to terms with this issue long ago. Much as he craved her touch, that wasn't the reason he loved her.

"No. I didn't know that for months. It was because she felt awful about slamming my fingers in the car door even after I told her it didn't hurt. I was cocky and dismissive and she didn't let me get away with it. She saw people affected by the Troubles and she had no idea how any of this was possible but she didn't judge them – she helped them. She cared. She liked the weirdness everyone else shied away from. I bought her a ridiculous outfit as a joke and she wore it just to make me smile. I'd forgotten that I could still do that. That I could have a reason to laugh. When she's around I forget how different I am. She reminds me how to live. And it's like you said. I don't know when I fell in love with her. I just am."

He wasn't sure why he could tell this to his son – practically a stranger – when he'd never admitted nearly as much to Audrey. But he needed his son to understand that there was nothing manipulative in his feelings. Audrey would never think so poorly of him, even if he had questioned himself. But James had to know.

"And you think that's enough to keep her here?"

He had to think that. That theory was the only thing holding him together. What he hadn't mentioned was life post Audrey had been infinitely worse than life before her. He wasn't strong enough to bear it a second time.

"It was enough to bring her back. I won't let her go again."

"I'll help. Any way I can." He shrugged, self deprecating. "Not like I have anything better to do."

Nathan reached out and covered one of the hands resting on the bar with his own. Warmth flooded through his instantly, though he tried not to let it show. This man was a piece of him, and that was a wonder. He was exceedingly grateful that he'd inherited Audrey's affliction instead of his own.

"You may not need parents. But if you need friends, Audrey and I are here."

The corner of James' mouth twitched upwards. "I'll keep that in mind."

A flash interrupted the moment, and Nathan turned to find Audrey standing a few feet away with her phone raised. His heart seemed to turn in his chest, and it took all his self control not to rush over and kiss her just to convince himself that she was actually here.

Instead he smirked at her, spurred by the reminder of their early days when their relationship had been filled with banter and teasing and far less heartbreak. "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Nope. You wanted photos and that's what you're going to get. Lots and lots of photos. So many you can make me a collage."

"Ha ha."

"You still owe me a tour of your house. I want to see these decoupage masterpieces. Then maybe you can teach me how to golf."

"Just because you don't have any hobbies besides reading vampire love stories."

James cleared his throat. "So … cameras got smaller in thirty years."

"Yeah." Nathan watched in delight as she floundered for a recovery. "This is a phone, actually. And no one uses film anymore." Audrey handed the phone over and gave a brief demonstration. While James was distracted she turned to Nathan.

"Film?" he mouthed.

"Shut up," she mouthed back, smacking him on the shoulder.

He caught her hand and pulled her closer, resigning himself to nothing more than pushing a few strands of hair behind her ear she must have missed when she pulled her hair into a ponytail. Making out in front of their son probably wouldn't win them any points.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah." Her soft exhale was hardly convincing, but she was dressed as no-nonsense Agent Parker and he understood the way she used work as a shield.

He placed a hand on her shoulder. Though she didn't leap into his arms she didn't shrug it off either. "It's just a lot, you know? We'll talk about it later."

He'd make sure they did. But right now they had the world to face.

Audrey stepped away and retrieved her phone from James. "We have to go to the _Herald,_ and then this one should probably stop playing hooky and check in at the station. You're welcome to come."

"I think I need some time to process all of this."

"Oh. That's fine. You can stay at my apartment and we'll be in touch, I guess."

"I'll get him situated," Duke offered, emerging once more from the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up and a dishcloth tossed over his shoulder. "Cell phone. Motel room. General understanding of the past few decades. Say hello to the Teagues for me. I gotta say, I'm not sure how I feel about Vince right now. I'm glad he didn't let anyone with that tattoo kill me, but I still feel kind of betrayed."

"Call if you run into any trouble," Nathan advised.

"Why would we run into any trouble?"

"Just call. And be careful."

"Yes Chief. Look at me, taking orders from the police. I'm like a new man. Remember when I wouldn't even talk to cops?"

Rolling his eyes, Nathan followed Audrey out of the Grey Gull.

**Author's Note:** I know, it's been awhile since Nathan and Audrey had any alone time. There's plenty coming, I promise. But a surprising number of people asked for some Nathan/James interaction. And those pesky Troubles, getting in the way of our favorite couple. It's because I started thinking about plot instead of just fluff. But don't worry, the plot is mostly a fluff vehicle.

Reviews are always greatly appreciated!


	6. Chapter 6

"You and James seemed to be getting along," Audrey said as Nathan eased his Bronco toward the center of town. The familiarity of the cab helped to sooth her frazzled nerves, but not enough. She felt like she'd drank seven cups of coffee but she'd only had two. And four cupcakes. But who was counting.

Nathan's smile was so uncharacteristically boyish that it calmed her for a moment as her heart sped up for an altogether different reason. He looked unburdened – proud – and she couldn't help falling in love with him just a little bit harder. "He's amazing."

She wanted that with James – easy affection and expected closeness – but she'd never been any good with kids and skipping right to the adult stage hadn't seemed to help either. "I wish I could remember the time we spent together when I was Lucy. Or whatever time we'd had when I was Sarah."

He reached out and found her hand across the seat, interlacing their fingers and resting them on her thigh. It was a comforting weight; an intimacy they'd never been allowed. "You found him a safe home. The Cogans took good care of him. He was happy." His thumb traced a soothing pattern across the back of her palm and she knew he was her lifeline in this whole confusing mess.

"What else did he tell you?"

"He said that Sarah asked that he come to Haven in 1983 to find her."

She sighed. "But he found Lucy instead. And we know how that went. He's still kind of freaked out from thinking she killed him."

"He'll come around. He was very concerned I was using you to feel something, so that's a start."

He said it lightly, like a joke, but she picked up on his uncertainty even before he continued a few moments later. "You know that isn't true, right?" He was awkward, tentative, like a teenager already half-certain of rejection and the thought was so absurd she laughed and smacked him lightly on the shoulder with her free hand.

"Of course! If you were selfish like that you would have made a move much sooner. Which I wouldn't have minded, by the way."

She couldn't imagine a world where he'd take advantage of her like that. This wasn't the appropriate time or setting to tell him how much she looked forward to giving him back all the sensations he has lost. She wished she could take his affliction away completely, but if he could only feel one thing in the entire world she was glad that it was her.

But they didn't say such serious stuff in the Bronco. They teased and bantered – or at least they used to before they started taking separate cars to crime scenes. She had absolutely no desire to retrieve her car from Nathan's apartment and take it anywhere.

"Of course, there was that awkward high five stage," she mentioned, remembering all the strange, overly familiar gestures from her stoic partner that had seemed to come out of nowhere. There had been nothing aggressive in it. It had simply been odd. "That was weird."

Nathan smiled sheepishly, and she knew he'd been reassured. "Not my finest hour."

"Wasn't bad weird. Just weird."

His fingers tightened slightly around hers. "I kept thinking I'd imagined the whole thing. I just wanted to be sure."

She wanted to take that anxiety, grind it to dust, and scatter it into the wind. She'd been repulsed by the idea of Chris needing her to feel normal but she longed to make Nathan feel that way. Perhaps because he'd never ask that of her. "If you're ever unsure again, I give you full permission to remind yourself."

He pulled their joined hands to his mouth, pressed a kiss to the area his thumb had been tracing, and didn't say a word.

She'd always hated the cliché about butterflies in people's stomachs but she remembered this very cab filled with butterflies. The way their wings fluttered, erratic and dangerous, was exactly how she felt.

They continued the drive in silence and she tried to look out the window to assess all the changes in town. They had a job to do and she couldn't let herself get distracted, easy as it would be to lose herself in the wonder that was Nathan Wuornos.

"I still can't believe Vince was the head of the Guard all this time." There had never been anything menacing about the man – aggravating, most certainly – but there had always been something endearing under than bumbling, close-mouthed façade. He was harmless. But the Guard was anything but – all menacing tattoos that haunted Duke and whispers of imaginary information that pulled Nathan away from her. They should have been on the same side, helping the Troubled, but there was some ingrained difference that would always be a wall between them – she valued the lives of everyone in Haven, while they only cared for those bound together by their afflictions.

"I asked him about that. Told me I shouldn't have interfered with the Barn and now I had to live with the consequences. Haven't exactly invited him out for drinks since."

It was just one more thing Vince Teagues would have to answer for.

When Nathan pulled up to the Haven Herald office Audrey was shocked by its appearance. "The place looks new." The paint was brighter and the steps were no longer worn. There were no flower pots on the banister either, and while the font on the hanging sign looked more modern it was also stark and cold. The lighthouse was gone as well. Just the words, all whimsy gone, made her nervous. It wasn't right. Too much had changed. Was it all her fault?

"It was hit by one of the meteors. Practically razed the place. They had to rebuild."

The meteors were supposed to stop. That's why she had gone in to the Barn. She felt like Howard had lied to her, and the resulting surge of betrayal made little sense and did no good. He had lied to her the entire time she'd known him and now he was dead.

"Looks nice," she said, but she didn't mean it. "Where did they get the money? Is there such thing as meteor insurance?"

"Don't know. But in Haven there should be."

She let him open the truck door for her but she led the way into the building. The steps no longer squeaked under her feet, but the bell that rang when she entered the office was abrasive rather than cheerful.

"You owe me some answers."

Both men's heads snapped up quickly. Dave's eyes grew comically wide. "Audrey."

"It isn't Audrey," Vince snapped. "She'll have a new name now."

"Her hair's the same, you twit," Dave retorted. "And it isn't time for another one. Something went wrong with the Barn. The Troubles are still here, and so is she."

"She can also hear everything you're saying, you know." Just like always, she was torn between aggravation and endearment. But this time she wouldn't let them weasel their way out of answering her questions.

"She wouldn't know to come here if she didn't remember," Dave reasoned.

His words got through to Vince at last. "Audrey, is it really you?"

"Yeah. And the Troubles aren't gone, and the Barn's destroyed, so I really need to figure out another way to stop this."

"The Barn can't be destroyed." Vince's response was too automatic; he'd spent a lot of time convincing himself of that.

"I know you tried blowing it up in the fifties and that didn't work, but this time it kind of imploded and then burned down. I don't think it's coming back."

"We don't know anything," Vince claimed.

"Now we all know that's a lie."

They had the courtesy to look chagrined, but they didn't budge.

"The only way to get by in this town is to keep things close to the belt," Vince finally answered.

"So I've seen. But all that's accomplished is the same thing happening every twenty-seven years. Don't you want to find a way to stop the Troubles for good?"

"They weren't stopped at all this time." She finally recognized a glimmer of the Guard front man in the steeliness that had found its way into Vince's tone, turning a simple statement into an accusation.

"I know. I want to fix that. But I need your help."

Their excuses were immediate and almost simultaneous.

"I think you overestimate our usefulness," Vince said.

"Our archives were destroyed by the meteors," claimed Dave.

Audrey rolled her eyes and pivoted toward Nathan, who was watching with crossed arms from the doorway. "A little help?"

He smirked and shrugged. "You're doing fine."

She turned and took another step toward their desks. "Okay. Playing hardball. You like information, right? So how about a trade? An answer for an answer."

"I don't believe you know anything we'd be interested in." Vince was evasive and defensive, but Audrey recognized opportunity in the way Dave mostly stayed out of the conversation. Although she could possibly work Vince up enough to get him to reveal something, Dave was already considering talking. He was the weak link.

So she looked him in the eye when she showed her hand. "The Colorado Kid was Sarah's son, right? I know who his father is."

It felt wrong to barter with such information, as if she was using both her son and her once and soon-to-be-again lover as blackmail, but she needed the Teagues' cooperation. She needed them to give her a place to start, because no matter what happened with Nathan tonight or tomorrow or a few weeks down the road she'd never be able to really relax until the Troubles were over. And she wanted the freedom to fall into Nathan's arms and not come up for days.

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" Dave had taken the bait, and Audrey had to suppress the urge to celebrate her victory.

"I've never lied to you. I'm not going to start now." They locked eyes. She wasn't sure what got to him, but she could see his resolve crack and shatter. Perhaps it was some remnant of loyalty to the woman she'd once been.

"What's your question?"

Vince made a noise of protest, but he didn't stop Audrey from asking.

"Sarah left her son in Colorado to be raised by someone else, and she told him to come find her in 1983. How much did she know about all this, and how did she find out?"

"'All this' is very vague."

"The Barn. The Troubles. New identities every twenty-seven years."

Dave sighed and pulled off his glasses, folding them carefully before pinching his nose. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, and Audrey could hardly believe that he might actually tell her something important.

"She didn't know anything when she came here. But she loved a good mystery, almost as much as she loved helping people. It was our mother who noticed she looked like a woman who'd come to town almost thirty years ago. Margaret Thomas. We started digging around together. Found out about the Barn, and the way the Troubles cycled. After she found out she was pregnant she was determined to stay. But something changed before she had the baby. It was like she'd given up."

"Sarah was no quitter!" Vince exclaimed, slamming a hand against the desk.

"She accepted her fate. But she wouldn't tell us why. We tried to send the Barn away without her."

"You tried to blow it up," Audrey clarified, remembering what Howard had shown her.

"Yes. When that didn't work—"

"Leave it, Dave," Vince warned.

"No. She has a right to know. Maybe it'll help."

"There's nothing about what we did that day that helped."

"What did you do?" Audrey asked.

"We told Sarah that she didn't have to go into the Barn. That she should just stay. Go back to Colorado, raise James somewhere safe, forget about the town and its Troubles."

"Did she listen?"

Dave swallowed. "She did. Till the meteors started."

Vince's response was so booming Audrey found herself flinching back from the sound of his voice even before the words sunk in. "First one hit the school. Twenty-seven children died. More were injured – horribly injured. Sarah was devastated."

"She was furious," Dave continued, quiet and contrite in contrast to his brother's fury. "Last thing she ever said was how we never should have tried to stop her. That she was meant to go into that Barn."

The pieces clicked as she turned toward Vince. "That's why you started the Guard. To make sure that was always what happened."

"He was blinded by emotion. Sarah knew she had to go in the Barn then, but she didn't want to keep going back forever. But he couldn't see the difference."

"There is no difference! The cycle repeats again and again and again, and all we can do is weather it out."

"Sarah thought there was another way," Dave claimed. "Maybe she found it."

"But she didn't tell you?"

"No. She did keep a journal, though. I'd catch her writing in it sometimes. But she'd never show it to me. Said a lady's thoughts were private."

"Do you know where she might have left it?"

"No idea. Might have taken it with her."

Audrey drew herself to her full height and tried to look menacing. These men had helped pick out her wardrobe once, and she wasn't sure she was convincing. "This isn't one of those times where you lie to my face and act like you have no idea what I'm talking about, is it, because I swear to God…"

"No. We don't have it. Scouts honor."

"Neither of you?" She looked deliberately at Vince, who was sulking. He frowned at her with furrowed brows, but he eventually shook his head.

"Neither of us."

"All right. Well, it's a start, I guess. Thanks. I'll see you around." The fact that Sarah kept a journal was a lead, even if she had no idea yet how to follow it. She now knew Dave was more likely to talk and Vince still had something to hide, and she was sure they'd given her some clues to interpret their dynamic. The next time she came to see them she'd be ready.

"Wait. The Colorado kid's father. You promised." There was something pleading in Vince's tone that stopped Audrey in her tracks.

"Nathan." She glanced back at him and smiled. "It's Nathan."

"How is that possible?" Dave asked, and his befuddlement was amusing but she didn't let herself laugh.

"There's a question for the next time I need answers, isn't it? See you later, boys."

"Be careful," Vince called after her.

She waited until they'd left the office before she stumbled into Nathan, giggling.

"When that starts getting around I'm going to have a lot of awkward explaining to do."

"Should have thought of that before you knocked me up before you were born."

The smile he flashed her was devilish. "Fair enough."

"Nathan, honey, you there? Someone just phoned in a disturbance outside the bank." The radio on Nathan's belt crackled to life. Haven's dispatcher sounded older, but it was still a sign not too much had changed.

"Duty calls." He unclipped the radio. "We're on our way, Laverne," he said into it.

"We? Who are you with?"

"I'll explain later."

"She still calls you honey?" Audrey asked once they were back in the Bronco.

"Yeah. She's actually more of a mother hen now than she used to be. Think she's a bit worried about me."

"She doesn't have to worry anymore. But I appreciate her looking out for you."

"Does she pack your lunch and remind you to clean your room?" she asked a few seconds later.

"No," he said petulantly. "Did sew some buttons on for me a few months back, though."

"That's great because I am awful with a needle."

His head snapped to the side to look at her as soon as he realized the domestic implications of her statement. The best part was she wasn't even messing with him.

"You're an easy mark, Wuornos." She reached over and patted his thigh, pleased when he almost jerked out of his seat.

"I'm sure you could come up with some way to make it worth my while to mend your clothes."

"I can think of a few." His voice had turned husky and it took everything she had not to shiver. This was something they'd never done in the Bronco. There had always been a line their flirting didn't cross. But the Barn had erased it, leaving so much delightful territory to discover.

But all playfulness drained from him as they approached the bank. "I need you to stay in the car," he said as he cut the engine.

"Yeah. Because that's going to happen."

"I'm serious."

"I know it's been a long time for you, but I was in that Barn for like five minutes. I'm not rusty. We were chasing after that guy at your reunion two days ago."

"You don't have a gun." Once again, she'd forgotten. She'd given it to Duke, and they hadn't gotten back to the station yet to issue her another one.

"Laverne just said there was a disturbance. How do you know I'll need a gun?"

"I know."

"We're wasting time." Audrey exited the car and Nathan scrambled out after her.

Six men had a seventh surrounded, and much to Audrey's aggravation five of them had guns drawn. Nathan pushed her behind him, drawing his own weapon. She hoped the group would be too focused on each other to notice their arrival; she and Nathan had hardly been stealthy.

Perhaps she _was_ rusty. It was a rookie mistake. Or maybe she should have spent less time thinking about sexing up her partner and more focused on top-notch police work that kept her alive.

The leader of the group was taunting the man in the middle, who was sobbing like a child. He was well dressed in a business suit, somewhere in the early years of middle age, and he had the look of someone who spent most of his time behind a computer.

Those who made up the circle were far rougher around the edges, wearing jeans and boots and jackets – typical attire of the average laborer. Two of the men had their sleeves rolled up, and Audrey could see the Guard tattoos there, black and foreboding against their pale skin. Only one of the men seemed not to belong – well dressed like their victim, except for the strange gold gloves that he wore.

"Why Chief, it's so good of you to join us," one of the tattooed men called, and Audrey really wished she had a gun.

Nathan made another effort to hide her from view, but she didn't let him get away with it. She wouldn't let him take a bullet for her. Neither of them was getting hurt today – not after everything else they'd already been through.

"Help me," the man in the middle begged.

"Yes, let's see if the Chief of Police can get you out of this." Audrey could hear the man's smile even though she couldn't see him.

"What's going on, Bernie?"

"Alistair here was trying to skip town."

"Don't see the harm in that."

"Why of course not. Flee while the getting's good, away from this cursed town and its Troubled inhabitants. Good riddance, I say."

"Then why the gun show?"

"If he was afraid for his safety he should have just left. But you know, those rich, Untroubled folk, they don't know how to cut their losses and run."

"He came to the bank to withdraw something," Nathan reasoned.

"Cool half million. You could build quite a new life with that money. A safe, secure life in a place we'd never find you, right?"

The Troubled men all took a step forward, tightening the noose, and Bernie reached out and nudged Alistair in the chest with his gun. "I don't want anything to do with this town! I don't mean you any harm."

"No harm? What about your sister in Portland with her news station? Didn't you mean it when you told Carol you were going to give her the story of a lifetime?"

"She told you that?" Alistair choked.

"We have eyes everywhere." Surely the other man in the suit owned these particular eyes, but Alistair was too panicked to make the connection.

"You thought you could sell us out!" one of the other men accused. "Crawl off somewhere safe and laugh when the military came in to restore order and cart us off to some lab to get studied like freaks."

"You are freaks!" Audrey could feel the atmosphere shift, and knew the outburst was a terrible mistake.

"Let me take this from here," Nathan tried, placating. "I'll see that he's detained. No one on the outside will be informed."

"What law are you going to charge him with breaking, officer?" The man's laugh, deep and carefree, had a manic quality that filled Audrey with dread.

"I'll worry about that."

"No, no. As much as it would amuse me to let you further undermine the very system you swore to uphold, we won't play games with our safety. We'll be taking care of this ourselves."

Audrey couldn't bear to stand by and do nothing any longer. "You can't!" she shouted, stepping away from Nathan. All eyes turned to her, quickly followed by all guns, and if Alistair was a smarter man, or less terrified, he would have used that to his advantage.

"No," Nathan bellowed, grabbing Audrey and pulling her behind him once more. His grip was like an iron shackle on her arm, but he didn't seem to realize he was hurting her.

"If it isn't the Police Chief's little whore." Bernie's voice had turned from syrup to arsenic, and although she didn't have all the pieces yet she began to understand Nathan's fear.

"Leave her alone," Nathan growled.

"We won't lay a hand on her - today. She needs to realize what she's done – just like you have. But once she understands, she will pay. You can't protect her."

"Wanna bet?"

"Yes." Without even turning Bernie emptied two slugs into Alistair's chest. The man fell with a strangled cry, but he wasn't dead. Blood bubbled from his mouth as he gasped for air. Audrey wanted to run to him, staunch the bleeding, apologize, but Nathan wouldn't let go.

"There's your first lesson, whore, over what choosing _love_ over duty has wrought." Bernie spit on the dying man, and Audrey swallowed her sobs but she couldn't stop her tears. "You were supposed to be our salvation. Instead you left us in this hell."

She hadn't meant to, she wanted to scream, but she couldn't make her throat cooperate.

"A moment like this ought to be memorialized, shouldn't it? Winston."

The man with the gloves stepped forward and knelt beside the dying man. He peeled one of the gloves off, revealing a hand that looked gold and scaly. "Should have left without the money, Al," he muttered, sounding contrite. He grasped Alistair's arm, which after a few seconds began to resemble the banker's hand. In less than a minute he was entirely golden, one hand clutched to his chest and his face frozen in a grotesque grimace.

"Best run along, officers. Surely you have some paperwork to sign after this tragic accident."

"You can't do this!" Audrey exclaimed, finally finding her voice.

"Parker!" Nathan sounded nearly hysterical but she was so devastated and furious that she didn't care.

"We protect our own. Those outside Haven will not be allowed to interfere. I think you'll soon find that we can do anything we need to make certain of that."

"You won't get away with this." They'd killed a man in broad daylight in front of two law enforcement officers and they didn't even seem worried. Audrey's mind was reeling. Even in Haven that wasn't how the world worked. No one lived without consequences.

Bernie actually seemed surprised, though perhaps it was her audacity when they were clearly outgunned. "He hasn't told you anything, has he?"

"We need to go," Nathan demanded.

"We need to do something!"

But she didn't know what, and before she could figured it out he had grabbed her by the waist and tossed her over his shoulder. She shrieked, mortified and infuriated, and beat at his chest with her fists. "My God, Nathan, let me down!"

But he pretended not to hear her until he dumped her into the Bronco. Long after her throat was hoarse all she could see when she closed her eyes was red and gold.

/*/

_**Author's Note**__: Believe it or not, next chapter is actually the one most of you have been waiting for, I think. The ideas for this just keep multiplying. I'd love to hear what you think! Reviews keep me motivated._


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note**: _I don't think this surpasses the T rating, but anyone easily offended may want to tread cautiously. To those not easily offended … enjoy!_

* * *

Nathan threw the Bronco in gear and sped toward the station, everything that had just happened replaying in agonizing detail. Audrey's cries wrapped barbed wire around his heart, but he couldn't heed them. He had to get her out of there.

"You stop this car this instant, Nathan Wuornos, and you tell me what the hell is going on!"

He'd never heard her so furious.

"I can't." He stared out at the road, not daring to look at her.

"You damn well can!" She reached for the steering wheel but he caught her wrist, trapping it. She played dirty the second time, reaching for this thigh but he wouldn't be distracted when her life was at stake.

"Do you want me to drive us off the road?" he hissed. He had to take his other hand off the wheel to stop her and it was a few seconds until he'd clasped both her wrists in his right hand. "Don't make me cuff you."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Better than getting us both in an accident."

"Then pull over!"

"They could be following us."

"We should be following them!"

"Why? We're still one gun against six."

"Because they just murdered someone in front of us and expected to get away with it! The Nathan I knew would have made sure they didn't."

"Maybe I'm not that man anymore."

He heard her sharp intake of breath and ventured a glance her way. Her eyes were red and there were tears running down her face. Despite everything this town had thrown at her, he'd rarely seen her cry. Maybe she'd never forgive him for this – and maybe she shouldn't. But he wouldn't survive if anything happened to her.

"We're not safe on the road. We'll talk at the station. I'll tell you everything you want to know."

They didn't say another word for the rest of the drive. When she began to fidget he suspected sabotage until he realized how uncomfortable her position must be. He released her wrists, filled with shame. She wrapped her arms around herself, and he desperately wanted to be the one to do that. To wipe the tears away, kiss her forehead and promise that everything was going to be okay. But even if she ever let him touch her again he couldn't promise what he didn't believe.

The shock of the station's new appearance broke her pledge of silence. Two stories, smaller, faded wood instead of stately brick. So different from the place where they'd worked side by side, became partners, grew into friends. When he'd returned from the hospital to find it smoldering, all traces of her destroyed, it had been worse than the bullets. "What happened?"

"Didn't have meteor insurance." With so much of the town ruined they'd had to make due. The way most of the residents felt about him, restoring the police station to its former state wasn't a priority.

She didn't wait for him to open the door for her. She scrambled out of the car as soon as it stopped and he followed, half afraid she was going to bolt in the wrong direction just to get away from him.

Instead she waited for him to cross in front of his truck and slapped him in the face.

"How dare you!"

His hand came up instinctively to cover his jaw. It hurt, but that was of little importance. The sting would fade, and he'd miss it when it was gone. It was the torment on Audrey's face and the rage that seemed to radiate from her that would destroy him.

"I had to keep you safe."

"That wasn't about me! The Guard attacked an innocent man."

"This is all about you!" She hadn't expected him to shout at her. But he couldn't take it anymore – her inability to put her own needs in front of this damned town and look out for herself.

"Get inside. We shouldn't stay out in the open."

"You're being ridiculous."

"Get inside! Now!" he bellowed.

He was prepared to drag her in but she went of her own accord. But as soon as the door closed behind them she rounded on him.

"Start explaining. Now," she demanded.

"Let's go to my office."

"No. You said we needed to go inside. We're inside. Start talking. Unless you need to send reinforcements after our merry band of murderers, but somehow I don't think that'll be happening."

The receptionist was staring at them with a dropped jaw. Everyone in this station knew how he'd mourned her. Everyone in the town knew what that had wrought. The Guard had made sure of that.

Now she was shrieking at him like a banshee and even if he deserved it it was still embarrassing. "Come on, Parker." He reached for her elbow and she smacked his hand away.

"Don't."

"You really want to hear the whole story in the lobby of the police station?"

"I wanted to hear it in your truck, but apparently that wasn't safe. So this will have to do, since you didn't bother to tell me this morning."

He was hoping that if he just kept walking toward his office she would follow when Stan rounded the corner. There was no way he hadn't heard her yelling, but he still looked gobsmacked at her appearance. "Officer Parker!"

"Stew! Stan! Damn it!" Perhaps realizing this wasn't how she wanted to reunite with all of her former co-workers, she shot Nathan a scathing look. "Fine. You win. Your office."

It was a short walk. Fewer officers, smaller building, fewer rooms.

"Talk," she demanded as soon as she slammed the door behind them.

"All right." He clutched at his neck, trying to figure out where to begin. All he could see was himself, pounding on the Barn that would disappear any second and take her away from him. That was where this had all started.

"The meteors kept falling for a day. Took out about a third of the town. Homes. Businesses. The harbor. Couple hundred people died. Would have been more if Dwight hadn't taken charge."

"The meteors were supposed to stop when I went in the Barn. That's what Howard said."

"They didn't." He had known, watching the Barn disappear, that they wouldn't. He had expected the whole town to burn. And in that moment he hadn't cared. "There was mass panic. And you know how that brings out the Troubles. Whole families who didn't even know they were affected suddenly were. But it was different this time. It wasn't all accidents. People were angry, and they started using their Troubles like superpowers. Vince and Dave even stopped trying to cover everything up. They advised people to stay calm and lay low."

"It didn't work," she said flatly.

"No. The Guard knew what was supposed to happen with the Barn, and they were furious. They started telling people that the meteor storm was never supposed to hit – that the Troubles should have gone away. That is was our fault that they didn't. That's why I had to get you out of there. They hate you, and they're everywhere."

"We're the police. We should be able to stop them."

"We tried. But there are hundreds of them, and they have dangerous afflictions and no rules. We lost six good officers the first month just trying to keep order. Stan was in a coma for seven weeks when one of them drained almost all his blood. A third of the force quit, and no one rushed to sign up. You know nothing is simple when a Trouble's involved. Locking them in jail rarely makes anyone safer. We still tried it because there was nothing else we could do. People using their Troubles on purpose didn't want to be talked down or sent off with Dwight. There were breakouts, and more dead officers. The Guard swore to protect the Troubled, and that makes more than half the town on their side."

"Who do they need protecting from? The Rev's men?"

"At first. There were more kidnappings, shootings in the streets. Sermons about hellfire seemed pretty convincing when the church was the only building standing in that part of town. But they never had a strong leader after the Rev, and it became clear pretty early that the Guard was more powerful. Hatred and fear are less motivating when you realize they'll only get you killed. But there was satellite footage of the meteor storm. It was national news. Ever since they've been terrified that the rest of the world is going to realize what's going on here and try to intervene. Every nosy reporter or conspiracy theorist is a threat, and every scared native without a Trouble has the potential to squeal."

"And they don't think murder in the streets will get anyone's attention?" she snapped.

"There was talk of a purge. Kill everyone without a Trouble. But there were too many who still cared about people without them. So the next plan was to lock down the town. Put checkpoints on the roads, cut phone and internet service to the outside world."

"They couldn't do that," she said, aghast.

"Rumor is they have a family that can. We fought with everything we had to make sure that didn't happen, but the Guard could change their mind any time and there isn't much left for us to do. They have the power here, and they're willing to do whatever they think necessary to protect their own. All we can do is warn the public who to watch out for and advise them how to stay out of the way. And damn it Audrey you have to be careful, because now that you're here you'll be their number one target!"

"If they hate us so much why didn't they go after you?" Her voice was quieter now, but it still felt like an accusation.

"Because they knew it'd hurt more to keep me alive than to kill me."

She reeled back as if he'd hit her, and he turned away, unable to stand the look on her face. He felt like he had. He'd certainly failed her. Failed every innocent and everyone who'd turned guilty because he'd damned them to this.

He had to get out of there. He'd told her the truth and now he needed space. "The official reports are all filed. The real reports are in the bottom drawer of my desk. The details are all there. Please, just stay here. I have to figure out how to cover up the fact Alistair's a gold statue or his sister will blow the whistle on this and I can't do that if I'm worrying about you."

He expected her to fight him, and he wasn't sure how he was going to stop her. But she nodded and settled into his chair. "All right."

He fled, and he didn't go back for hours, even though she was in his office and it would have been easier to work the cover up from there instead of one of the spare, empty rooms. Didn't help matters that each and every one of his co-workers knew he was slinking around like a dog with his tail between his legs, but he needed some time away from her disappointment. He did have a job to do, even if it wasn't what it once had been. Thankfully the entire Haven PD knew to leave him be when he was in one of his moods. As evening approached he ordered her dinner and had Stan take it to her, and the man walked past his office periodically to make sure she was still there.

When the end of the day came he knew he couldn't hide forever. He didn't know how he'd face that inevitable day when the Guard decided she'd seen enough of what Haven had become and tried to kill her, but he could watch over her now, at least.

He knocked on the door before he entered and she startled from her position behind a wall of files. She'd pulled her hair back and taken off her suit jacket, and her fries were half eaten and forgotten.

"Time to go."

He couldn't read her expression. She looked tired, but maybe he was just projecting. She rose without a word and followed him through the half-empty police station.

He anticipated a protest when he turned toward his house instead of the Gull. He didn't expect them to share a bed ever again, but he wasn't letting her out of his sight. He'd sleep in a chair by the door if he had to. He assumed his house was safe, but he couldn't swear the Gull wasn't booby trapped and there was no way he was checking it tonight. He'd get Duke to help in the morning.

But she didn't say a word about that or anything else, which unnerved him even more than her earlier anger. Audrey was never quiet for so long. He'd never met anyone with a stronger need to fill silence, and he'd heard her ramble on about the cream and sugar at the police station for ten minutes just because he wasn't in a talkative mood.

If Claire was still here she'd surely be able to analyze that, and it wasn't the first time Nathan had wished the nosy shrink had survived their last brutal case. Claire had spent hours talking to Audrey, so maybe she would understand what was going on in that head of hers, because Nathan could only guess and fear the worst.

She took off her shoes and hung her coat and suit jacket on the hooks by the door, all without saying a word, and it was all so odd and domestic and perfect and yet somehow wrong and Nathan was too damn exhausted to make any sense of it. He didn't feel weariness the way he had back in college or the Academy, but his limbs were heavy and his brain sluggish even though there were too many thoughts racing through it. Just this morning he'd thought that maybe he didn't have to feel this way anymore. That her being back was enough. But he'd been fooling himself. Because now he had something to fight for but he didn't know how to do it, especially when she was too damned stubborn to let him. Maybe she was too shocked to argue now, but that wouldn't last. She wouldn't be Audrey if she gave up so easily – that's what had made those last two months together so wrong – and normally he wouldn't ask that of her but Bernie's threat kept echoing in his mind and just like he couldn't save Alistair he was terrified that he wouldn't be able to save her. Because they were outgunned and outnumbered, and he couldn't protect her every single second and it would only take one slipup for everything to be lost.

And now they were standing in his living room at an impasse and all he wanted was for everything awful to just stop – just for a little while.

"You think I don't know that this is my fault?" he rasped, the awful truth draining from him like pus from a wound. "You wanted to stop the Troubles but I couldn't let you go. Everything that's happened – everyone who's died – has been because I needed you so damn much I didn't care about the consequences. And I'm even worse than Dave and Vince because even knowing how it turned out I would do it again. Because you're here now. Even if you never look me in the eye again I would still choose to save you, because it isn't fair that you have to give your life for this damned town. You deserve to be happy. I want to be what makes you happy. But I know you want me to take care of Haven. I tried. I just couldn't do it without you."

She advanced on him, reaching a hand out to cover the place where she's slapped him earlier. Her fingers were surprisingly cold. "Nathan…"

"Don't," he said shakily, pulling away. He couldn't do this tonight – be a gentleman while she gave him a glimpse of heaven and then shut the door in his face. He had no right to expect anything of her, but he wanted her, desperately. He'd spent years wanting her – wanting her by his side, wanting to see her smile again, wanting her to fix him, wanting her beneath him, craving his touch as much as he craved hers. Now that she was back, here before him but still somehow so far away he didn't trust his self control to hold.

Yet he couldn't make himself take more than one step backwards. Because as much as he knew he couldn't handle it he wanted whatever bone she would throw him. It was pathetic. But he had spent so long with so little hope, and now that she'd miraculously returned some tiny part of him still believed that maybe – just maybe – he hadn't ruined them beyond repair. That she could still see something worthwhile in the wreck of a man he'd become. And he'd be strong enough to save her.

She wore the same pained expression from earlier in his office. "I'm not Sarah," she whispered. He couldn't figure what that had to do with his confession.

"You are," he insisted. Because if she wasn't he was even more of a bastard in all of this, having sex with some clone of her just because they couldn't get their shit together in their proper time.

"That's not—" She shook her head, clearly agitated. "I don't mean what she said to Vince and Dave. I forgive you."

The thought of that paralyzed him. He'd learned early that if something seemed too good to be true, it usually was.

"How?" He'd never seen her as upset as she was today. It seemed incomprehensible that anger had disappeared.

"You didn't know what was going to happen. You just wanted to keep me safe. How can I stay mad at you for that?"

"So many people died."

"We can't change the past. But we still have the future."

"Haven's in shambles. I can't control the Guard. There are more Troubles than ever. All because I couldn't let the Barn have you."

"Because you love me."

"Yes," he said miserably.

Her hand was on his face again, forcing him to look at her. The anger had melted away. She looked young. Vulnerable. Achingly beautiful. She stared into his eyes and did not flinch. "Because you love me. And I love you. So I forgive you."

Her fingers began to move and he felt like he was being undone. "I can't," he choked out. Couldn't resist her. Couldn't be strong anymore. Couldn't believe this was happening.

"I'm not asking you to. Not tonight. No more false starts. No more teasing. No more later. Just stop thinking."

"Make me," he challenged, but he knew as soon as he said it that she'd already won.

Their lips crashed together desperately. She met his anger and swallowed it, and it didn't take long from him to be lost in the swirl of her tongue and the warmth of her mouth. Her hands found their way under his shirt, and he gasped when she pressed one against the small of his back. The other soon followed, and then they were dancing across his skin, sliding up toward his shoulders and then back again, leaving tingling nerves in their wake.

She broke contact with his mouth long enough to pull his shirt over his head, but then their lips were drawn back together like magnets. Now her hands were everywhere, running across his chest, finding scars and muscles and feelings he'd long given up on. He wanted to get her shirt off, give back as good as he was getting, but he couldn't concentrate. One hand had snapped the elastic and was fisted in her silky hair, stroking her neck and the other clutched at her hip, holding her to him. He was never letting go.

His time with Sarah had been wonderful, but it had been quick and half-clothed in the front seat of her car. He had felt so much, but it had been nothing compared to this. Since she didn't know of his affliction he had tried to suppress how much she affected him – but Audrey knew. There was no need to hide, and no way that he could have. And she was taking full advantage.

When her lips left his mouth and started traveling down his body it was almost too much. His brain overloading, his legs started to quake, and he grabbed her shoulder to steady himself.

She straightened immediately, adjusting her stance to support his weight. She brought both hands up to cradle his face and tilted their foreheads together. It was all he could focus on, and as everything else fell away the world stopped spinning.

She looked deep in concentration, sapphire eyes dark with lust but shining with concern, and God she was beautiful. "You all right?" she asked, patient when he was dizzy with endorphins, and he loved her all the more for it.

It was awhile until he could form words at all. "Not thinking much."

She threw back her head and laughed and he used the opportunity to pepper kisses down her throat. He could feel her satisfied hum vibrate under his lips, spurring him on.

It was easier to focus when he had the upper hand. He found her shirt buttons and was shocked when the first one had a ghost of substance under his fingers. He'd had to learn how to unfasten buttons by sight and instinct. Now that he could feel one he seemed to have forgotten the lesson. But they were far enough from her skin that he couldn't properly discern the button from the fabric around it. He fumbled unsuccessfully, aggravated that he was incapable of such a simple task.

He wanted to grab either side of the shirt and just rip it off, buttons be damned, but he wasn't sure she'd appreciate that. Wasn't sure he'd survive if she did.

"Little help?" he growled.

He expected her to unfasten them quickly, irritated and impatient. He didn't expect the feeling of her hands covering his. The buttons became completely solid under their stacked fingers, and she retaught him the movements with painstaking care, repeating the process for every button until the fabric parted. He sought her eyes for permission, and was blown away by the tenderness radiating from them. He didn't understand how she could look at him like that, especially after everything she'd seen today.

But she nodded her consent, and he owed her a hell of a lot of payback. Taking a deep breath, he slipped his hands under her shirt and pushed it off her shoulders, trailing after it down her arms until it fell forgotten to the floor.

"Flawless," he whispered before dropping his hands to brace them just above the waistline of her pants.

"Stop," she murmured shyly as a blush crept across her pale skin.

"I mean it."

Her skin was so warm and inviting. His hands drifted slowly in a thorough exploration. He marveled at the way one of his hands nearly spanned her slight waist. Enjoyed the way she arched and moaned as it traveled upwards.

Her black satin bra was soft under his fingertips, but not nearly as soft as the flesh beneath it.

"Catch me," she whispered in his ear after a few minutes of bliss, scrapping her teeth over his earlobe for a few overwhelming seconds.

He barely had his wits back by the time she clasped her hands on his shoulders and pushed herself upwards, wrapping her legs around his waist.

He'd never know if it was shock or instinct but his arms came around her, clasping her to him and then there was so much skin touching, her breasts pressed against his chest. "Parker." The word came strangled from his throat as her arms wrapped around his neck, caressing.

"You won't drop me," she promised, and sure enough his legs were steady underneath him even as his heart felt it might beat out of his chest or explode.

Her lips blazed a trail across his collarbone and began moving downward while she threaded a hand through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He couldn't stop his moan of appreciation or the tremor that went through him.

"I'm not going to hurt you, am I?" she asked from somewhere above his right nipple.

"God, I hope not." He had no idea, honestly, but he'd try to hold it together for her – for him – for them.

Her laughter was throaty, glorious, and perplexing.

"Something funny?" He couldn't hold a scowl when her legs were locked around his waist and she was half naked in his arms.

"I've just missed you." From her perspective she'd only been in the Barn a few minutes. But that wasn't what she meant. He understood, but he couldn't come up with a suitable response.

She shook her head with a soft smile, releasing him from an apology he'd have to make later. "Take me to bed, Nathan."

They hadn't solved anything, and come morning they'd have to deal with that. But it felt like absolution, having her warm and willing and safe in his arms.

Hours later, after she retaught him the feel of every inch of his skin, and he would have forgotten even his own name except for the number of times she repeated it in various tones of ecstasy, she tilted her head up to meet his eyes from where she was sprawled across his chest. "We're going to find another way," she swore, and after all she'd just done to him it was impossible not to believe her. "I need to stop the Troubles. And I will. But I'm not giving this up."

His body still buzzed with the feel of her, but his mind was blissfully still. Giving himself over to the relief of that, he pulled the sheet around them and let himself sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's Note: **__Thank you so much to each and every one of my reviewers – particularly Leddy17, LovTwii , and STforRK for always taking the time to tell me what you think. Your feedback brightens my hectic weeks._

_This chapter was supposed to contain two more scenes, but it was a busy weekend … so I figured I'd post something to hold everyone over. Enjoy!_

* * *

Audrey woke warm and sated, cocooned in Nathan's arms. Memories of the previous night filtered back, like watching the best movie in the world on repeat, and she basked in them. She could hardly believe that this was real, and not another dream to get her through her lonely, anxious nights. But Nathan's chest rose and fell behind her, his arm a comfortable weight around her waist, and she could hear his breathing, deep and even. This was no dream.

It had all been so deliriously slow. She didn't usually go for that, and she fully intended to show him the merits of speeding things up a little. But the man sure knew the value of each and every touch, and the results had been electrifying. She'd never felt so loved. Cherished. Adored. Or alive, as his hands and lips found ways to drive her wild that she'd never even imagined.

And then there were the things she did to him.

She held an extraordinary amount of power over the man. Last night it had been intoxicating, with him practically purring beneath her, absolutely at her mercy. In the daylight it was terrifying.

Because maybe last night she'd started putting him back together. But for years she'd been breaking him apart.

One of the first things that had attracted her to Nathan Wuornos was the fact that he was an extraordinarily good man. She didn't come across many of those in her line of work. She was accustomed to chasing serial killers, pedophiles, and other dregs of humanity. Most men in the Bureau were hardened by the job and saw her as either a threat or a screw-up. There'd been little time outside of work to search for someone less rough around the edges. So she'd been shocked and pleased to find that underneath her new partner's dry humor and New England stoicism was an honest to goodness white knight, complete with door-opening chivalry and everything.

At first she'd written it off as small town manners, until she realized that no one else in town had any manners at all. She'd never been in such a close-mouthed, tight fisted community. But Nathan went out of his way to make her feel welcome, buying her ridiculous local paraphernalia, giving her lessons on how to sound like a Mainer, and talking about her staying like it was some foregone conclusion. (Turns out it was, but he hadn't known that.) And it wasn't just that he was flirting with her – because really, she'd never met anyone more awful at flirting.

She'd known without a doubt how wonderful a man he was when he took back his affliction so Jackie could be free of hers. It was the most selfless act she'd ever witnessed – and he hadn't even known the girl. She couldn't quite fathom how he could willingly go back to a life without feeling when he'd obviously been delighted to have all his senses again – but he'd brushed off her awe as if everyone would do the same.

When she'd started bending rules to help the Troubled he'd gotten anxious, and as much as he'd hated the Rev he'd disapproved when she killed him. And on some level she'd appreciated that even when he was annoyed at her. Because he was her moral compass whenever she got a little lost.

So when he'd joined the Guard and started going rouge it had left her with a constant sinking in her gut. Letting a Troubled prisoner escape was something she might have done – but he shouldn't have. She'd known that every indiscretion was for her sake but that made it even worse, because she hated herself for being responsible for his corruption.

When she'd returned to find Haven in such disarray, its denizens shooting each other in the streets without fear of reprisal, something inside of her had snapped. Even though she'd learned to get creative when the Troubles were involved all the years she'd thought she spent in the FBI had instilled in her a firm belief in law and order. To see that obliterated, and Nathan accept its loss, had released months of pent up frustration.

But it had all dissipated when he'd admitted the Guard had kept him alive to make him suffer.

His father had warned her how dark a place Haven could be, but she hadn't believed him at the time. She'd still been enamored by the weirdness, and convinced that once she found some answers and got bored she'd go back to chasing murderers with the FBI. But later she'd seen the Chief literally break into pieces under the strain of holding the town together. Now she worried Nathan might do the same.

She turned in his arms so she was facing him. He looked utterly relaxed, and she was glad for that. But as she ran a hand over his shoulder she couldn't help but think of all the burdens resting there. She wanted to take them from him. To spirit him away to a place where he didn't have to fight and stand and hurt while everything crumbled around him. A place where he could feel all the good things in life, and he was never left alone.

Ever since she'd come to Haven she'd had a need to help the Troubled that she couldn't rightly explain, eclipsing everything else, even her search for her mother turned prior identity. As much as she'd cared for Nathan and Duke and enjoyed the life she'd built in Haven, from the moment she learned of her fate she rarely considered defying it. There was something engrained in her, to accept the cycle. Maybe Howard was right – maybe it was penance for a crime she couldn't remember, and she'd accepted the punishment a long time ago.

But she would flee this place with him and never look back if it meant taking away the pain she'd seen blazing in his eyes.

The Guard had been wrong. Lust hadn't kept her out of the Barn. But now that she had slept with Nathan that could be what kept her from seeking it again. The urgency to help everyone was dampened by her concern for him. There was one particular Trouble she wanted to cure, and everything else seemed dim in comparison.

He had left the station so exhausted and miserable she could hardly stand it. When he had taken the blame for all that had happened it had broken the proverbial dam. She had known she was hurting him before she left, but she'd thought it was for his own good. But there was nothing good about the self-hatred he was spewing except that it told her the man she loved was still in there, raging against the injustice of what he'd become.

He was too far gone to be comforted by her words. But she'd known there was another way to fix him – to give him back the missing pieces of himself, if only temporarily. Maybe it hadn't been fair, to override his mind by supercharging his body. But she'd needed to take his pain and replace it with pleasure. To make him forget this terrible burden he'd been carrying.

Because this wasn't his fault – it was hers.

And now Bernie's accusations kept running through her head and she wondered if they were true. Maybe she was a whore. Because she did want to choose this over duty. Now that she'd had a taste of everything she and Nathan could be she wanted to build a life with him more than anything. To spend every night making love and wake up in his arms and tease him in the Bronco and solve cases together and watch the awe wash over his face when they fell over the cliff together. She didn't want to walk into some Barn and forget Audrey Parker and how she'd come to life the day Nathan pulled her from a dangling car.

But she had told him to stop thinking, and all she could do was take her own advice. She had slept with Nathan, and there was no undoing that. She had vowed she would find another way to fix this, and that was what she'd have to do.

To accomplish that they'd probably have to go to the station, as much as she never wanted to leave this bed. According to the clock on Nathan's nightstand it was already nearly eight.

The only positive was she could wake him far more pleasantly than an alarm clock.

Starting at his nearest shoulder, she trailed a line of soft, wet kisses across his collarbone and up his neck. She was surprised when he did not startle awake or react to her touch, but by the time she reached his jaw she noticed his eyes were open and following her.

"Morning," she drawled, placing one last kiss on the corner of his mouth.

He swallowed, his eyes wide. "Hi." His voice was low and raspy and she found it undeniably sexy even as he was looking at her like he couldn't quite figure what she was doing in his bed. Oh her adorable, awkward man.

Stifling a giggle, she shifted down and nuzzled into the crook of his neck, pleased when his arms tightened around her. She pressed an open palm above his heart, feeling it race under her hand. His fingers drifted across her back, and she let herself absorb the peace of the moment, wishing she could store it away to keep her sane once the world came knocking, as it was sure to do as soon as they left this room.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his neck after a minute or two.

She felt his entire body tense and his hands still.

"Not about that!" she assured, catching his drift. She pulled back so she could look into his face and chase the fears away. "Last night was…"

"Incredible," they said almost simultaneously. She was so glad they were back in sync.

"Mmmmmhmmmm," she hummed. "For someone with absolutely no game with chicks, you certainly have some moves."

He didn't take the bait, instead flashing her a cocky smile. After the night they'd had, she supposed he'd earned it.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked after they'd grinned at each other for awhile like love sick teenagers.

She sighed, almost wishing he'd let her comment drop. They needed to have this conversation. But she'd really rather they didn't. "For making a scene at the station yesterday. Wait, no—"

He squinted at her. "You're not sorry about making a scene at the station?"

She pulled away, running a hand through her hair, which was a tangled mess. "No. Yes. I mean I'm sorry about the yelling. But the manhandling was not okay, mister!" She punctuated her point with a few prods to his chest.

"I had to protect you." His tone allowed for no argument, and she wanted to roll her eyes at how quickly he could turn caveman on her.

Instead she went for honesty. "I know. That's why I'm sorry."

"What are you talking about?"

She sat up and suddenly wished she was wearing clothes. She pulled the sheet around her and crossed her arms across her chest, but covering up didn't make her feel any less vulnerable.

"I'm so sorry for everything you went through while I was gone. The Guard made you suffer because of me. You had to hold Haven together because I left it in a mess. Even before the Barn I was hurting you. This isn't your fault – it's mine. You'd be better off without me."

"Are you crazy?"

"Hey!" she protested.

He sat up as well, but he didn't try to cover himself. She had to force herself to look at his face, not his chest.

"Didn't you see me the night you came back? I'm not better without you! Don't you dare even think that."

He had been ruined, but it should never have come to that. "You were supposed to be fine on your own. You weren't supposed to fall in love with me!"

"Little late for that." He said it with such finality, as if it was a universal truth and not something she could wreck if she tried hard enough or just kept being herself.

"I thought if I pushed you away you'd get over it. You'd be okay when I was gone. And you'd be safe."

"Why the hell would that make me safe?"

She didn't know why he couldn't see it. It had all been so clear in her head. The only thing that made sense, really. She couldn't save herself. But she would save him. "Because I thought Lucy had been in love with the Colorado Kid. And he'd died because of her. I didn't want the same thing to happen to you."

"That's why you froze me out?"

"Yes."

"That was an awful plan."

He said it so matter-of-factly the tension that had been growing between them snapped. "Yeah. I realize that now." Hating the distance between them, she scooted forward and collapsed into his shoulder.

"You're allowed to be mad at me, you know." She was glad she wasn't looking at him when she said it. Because as much as it was true, she didn't want to see that anger contort his handsome features.

He was silent at first, and she thought he would pass up the opportunity. When he finally spoke his raw voice startled her into pressing closer.

"I hated the way you were acting. I just wanted to help you, Parker, and you'd barely even look at me. You kept flaunting Duke in my face."

She wouldn't make excuses, but she had grievances of her own to air while they were being honest. "I hated seeing you with Jordan. I wanted to be happy that you'd moved on but it killed me every time you went to her and not me. I was having seizures in that damned haunted house and you didn't even notice. I know I was the one pushing you away but I just wanted my partner back."

"It hurt too much to follow you around. I never wanted Jordan. But I thought the Guard could help me find a way to keep you here."

"I just needed you safe." It had been her driving focus those last few months. Find the Colorado Kid. Find out why the Barn always came for her, if she could. But protect Nathan at all costs. Even when the cost was making her last days miserable.

He pulled away enough to cradle her face and press their foreheads together. "That's exactly how I felt. How I still feel. I would do anything, Parker. Anything," he swore.

"Don't lose yourself," she pleaded.

"What?"

"I don't know who I am—"

"I've told you. I do."

"And I know who you are. I need that to stay true, no matter what happens. You're not allowed to lose yourself."

"I was a mess before you showed up the first time. I can't hold this all together without you."

"So we hold it all together – together. Sorry. That kind of got away from me."

He stopped her babbling with a searing kiss, and she grabbed his shoulders to pull them flush against each other. He didn't cave like he had last night, and they battled until she had to pull away to fill her starving lungs.

He only allowed her a few seconds to recover and then it was back to the best kind of drowning. His hands were everywhere as he pushed her down on the mattress. Seemed like he didn't have trouble with fast after all.

Just so long as it was fast.

As if he'd heard her wayward thought he pulled back far enough to give her a long suffering look. "You're going to tell me we have to get back to the station," he groaned.

"Am not." But she didn't sound convincing even in her own ears. Then one of his hands found its way under the sheet and she let out a squeak as it traveled lower.

"Was gonna say now might be a good time to join me in the shower."

He didn't need telling twice. He slid out of bed and scooped her into his arms, but she was still half tangled in the sheet, which almost sent them both crashing to the floor when it wouldn't come untucked from the mattress. By the time Audrey freed herself she was giggling uncontrollably.

"Smooth, Wuornos."

He grunted and picked her up again, carrying her toward the bathroom. "You didn't fall for smooth."

She laughed at what might have been the understatement of the year. "True. Fell for good."

Once they were finally standing under the faucet together joy flooded her at the way his face lit up when the water hit him, mixing with her arousal to send her cart wheeling in a heady swirl, and he was barely even touching her yet. Was this how she made him feel, she wondered as she pressed against him so the heat could wash over his skin.

"Fell for you," she whispered, before showing him just how hard she had fallen.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note: **_Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews! You guys are the best! I love to hear what you think. Here's a nice long one for your patience. Work got the best of me the last two weeks … and not nearly as pleasantly as it's getting the best of Audrey and Nathan …_

* * *

There were still a few hours of morning left by the time they made it to the station, which Audrey felt showed significant career dedication.

Their conversation on the drive over was light and inconsequential. She held his hand and pretended the contact – and all the delicious hours of contact since yesterday – had banished the tension from his body.

Most of her worries from that morning were still swirling through her head. Putting on her work clothes had less of a focusing effect when Nathan was trying to convince her to take them back off. But there was also a giddiness bubbling inside her. Though she knew it wasn't true, she felt invincible. Walking through the station door felt like a brand new start.

"Morning, Marge," she chirped at the receptionist.

It took a few moments for the woman to raise her head and flash her a puzzled look.

"Joan," Nathan corrected fondly from a few steps behind her.

Audrey turned back to look at him. "Really?"

"Yeah." It had been easier to concentrate when she didn't know a whole myriad of ways to wipe a smirk like that off his face.

She shook her head and tried to focus on the present. "Damn. I'm going to get better at that."

"Because you're less distracted now then when you first came to Haven?" he quipped.

"Shut up." She shoved him gently, and then turned back to Joan, who was watching the exchange with raised eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, Joan. That's a lovely name, really. Better than Marge. I'll remember it next time. Or try to, anyway."

She'd only taken a few steps toward Nathan's office, him chuckling all the way, when another officer whose name she couldn't even begin to guess entered the hallway and stared at her like she was either a ghost or a banshee.

"Hi," she offered lamely, realizing that maybe she really should have been sorry about causing a scene at the station.

By the time she encountered Stan, who stammered a greeting and wouldn't look her in the face, she'd figured out how to fix this.

There was a spare desk in the lobby, and she dragged Nathan over and used his shoulder to steady herself as she climbed onto it. From that vantage point she could see down the hallway. There weren't nearly as many cops bustling around as there used to be.

"Excuse me," she shouted. The room went silent, though she could hear people shuffling in their offices. "Could everyone please come out here? I've got a couple of announcements."

"What are you doing?" Nathan asked, peering up at her.

"I've got this." She waved him off as a small crowd filed in. After a minute or two she took a deep breath and flashed them all a shaky smile. As much as the town apparently revolved around her she wasn't used to being the center of attention. "So, I'm back. Obviously. First off, I want to apologize for all the yelling yesterday. I was a little shocked by what's going on, but it's all good now. I'll try to use my inside voice in the future. And secondly, Nathan and I are sleeping together."

"Parker!" he hissed.

Just as she expected, that didn't seem to shock many people. "We weren't, before I went –" she made a vague, fluttering hand gesture, "wherever he told you I went – but we are now, so you can settle your bets and move on. Thank you. Now back to work."

She waited until everyone had filtered out before she clambered back to the floor.

"Was that necessary?" He looked mortified, but she wasn't sorry.

"I just saved us from weeks of awkward questions meant to fish out _did they or didn't they_ just so they could figure out who won the office pool. It's all in the open now. So I can do this." She leaned forward on her tip-toes, looped her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

She half expected him to resist and was pleased when he didn't. When he pulled away he left his eyes closed and his forehead pressed against hers. "We're still not supposed to do that. Here anyway. Or probably at all."

"Why don't you tell the Chief?" she teased.

She wasn't used to the mischievous grin he flashed her, but the way it sent heat pulsing through her she determined to cause it more often. "Heard he's a pretty good guy. I could probably get him to make an exception."

"If not, I can always try to convince him," she purred. Her hands slid up his chest to finger the skin above his shirt.

"You do realize other people can see us, don't you?"

He stepped away, and she pouted at the loss of contact, even though she knew he was right. Heaven only knew what Marge – Joan – thought of them now.

"You're the one who insisted we come here today. I have enough vacation saved up we wouldn't have to bother for weeks."

She allowed herself a moment to savor the thought of that – being able to lock herself in Nathan's bedroom and do nothing but him for a week. To say everything that needed to be said without interruption. To teach them both the meaning of untempered joy and love without strings. To simply be two people, young and in love, driven by adoration, attraction, and hormones. Not two hardened cops trying to hold a town together and solve a decades old mystery to save their own skins. She wanted to blow off work without feeling guilty. Sit around with a couple of beers swapping childhood stories. Fall asleep together on the couch while watching a movie. Go on dates without worrying someone was trying to kill her.

But there were people trying to kill her, and they didn't have the luxury of living their lives as if there weren't. A blissful week wouldn't be worth it if she was shot dead at the end of it and Nathan was left alone again.

"You know why we have to bother."

She hated that she had to darken his good mood. But they did need to focus, and she needed that reminder as much as he did.

"Yeah," he said tightly, glowering.

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll figure this out. We just can't give them the time to get the jump on us."

"They've got every advantage."

"They don't have me. And I'm pretty good at this Troubled stuff."

She stared at him, daring him to contradict, but he conceded instead. "You did always like the weird ones."

"That is so much truer than we ever imagined. So what's on the docket today, Chief?"

He slipped on his professionalism like a uniform. "I think I've got the Alistair cover-up under control. Dwight faked a car wreck. Story is dentals confirmed identity, but the body was so badly burned immediate cremation was ordered. Stan should have called the sister to let her know this morning."

"Wanna blow off paperwork to help with some investigating? I've got some questions about the files I read yesterday."

"Yeah," he said tentatively.

"Don't worry. I promised no more yelling, remember?"

She followed him through the station. All the confidential files she'd pulled were still piled on his desk – probably unwise except that it sounded like it didn't matter much. She examined the plain, rectangular room – a desk, a chair, a few filing cabinets. No ornamentation of any kind. It lacked life and character – and space for her.

"You office is awfully small. How are we going to fit another desk in here?"

His eyebrows scrunched as he squinted his eyes. "We aren't?"

"Ah, come on. Are you really going to make me work in some empty office down the hall?"

"I've had my own office since I became Chief."

"Yeah, but I was right outside. And it was more fun when we shared." They'd driven each other half nuts sometimes being in such close quarters, but that had always made life interesting. Now that they had a shared secret mission, it seemed more important than ever that it was easy to work together.

But square footage was not on her side. He set her up in the nearest empty office, issued her a new gun and filed the paperwork to get her reinstated. But once the technicalities were accomplished she dragged the comfiest chair she could find into his office, fully intending to invade his work space at every opportunity.

She started by rolling her chair right beside his and picking up the top file. "So. Meteors keep falling. Town goes crazy. Troubles flare up everywhere. That makes sense."

"So what doesn't make sense?" he asked.

"You said the Guard is afraid the outside world's going to catch on to what's happening in Haven. And that the meteor shower was national news."

"Yep."

"Then how come they didn't catch on? These paint a pretty bleak portrait of disturbing killings, maimings, and basically gang warfare between the Guard and the Rev's men. Even the doctored versions would easily make the nightly news. How could the world possibly look toward Haven and not know something's going on?"

"The Guard has a family that can make people forget. They know killing outsiders will start something they can't contain. So they've made sure no one leaves here with any knowledge of what they've seen."

"A bunch of reporters become amnesiacs after visiting a small town? Seems like that would require a whole other cover up."

"The Troubled can control how much is erased. It's not a full memory wipe."

"And that's worked?"

"Seems to."

"I hate to give the Guard any credit, but it does seem like they dodged a bullet there. If scientists caught wind of this place it would be a nightmare."

"Thought has crossed my mind."

He had a fancy diagnosis to hide behind, but she'd done enough research after they first met to know idiopathic neuropathy couldn't explain the scope of his symptoms. She thought of him strapped to a lab table and knew she'd wipe a few nosy reporters' brains to keep anyone from daring to run tests on him. But there would be no easy way to explain a man whose shadow had a thirst for vengeance or a woman who turned into a succubus every Friday and stole the years from her victims to give them to her miracle-grow babies.

"So the Guard is trying to protect the town – they're just willing to use any means necessary."

"The Guard is protecting the Troubled," Nathan corrected sharply. "They don't give a damn for those in town who aren't."

"So maybe I should tell them I'm Troubled, 'eh?"

"You can't seek them out!" he demanded.

"Okay. I was just trying to lighten the mood. I get it. Stay away from big bad men with tattoos."

"I have a list of all known Guard members. You'll need to memorize it. And we'll have to figure out which ones have Troubles that could still harm you, even if they don't work on you directly."

"Aye, aye, Captain."

"This is serious."

"I know." But she hadn't figured out what to do about the Guard yet, and she didn't want to fight with him today. She flipped absentmindedly through a few pages of the folder she was holding. It was too vast a compilation to pick out anything useful without having a clue what they were looking for. They'd need to figure out a plan of attack before they really started digging.

"Where did you tell people I went?" she asked. He'd told her she'd been listed as dismissed after vacating her post, but that hardly said anything. With two Havens, it was unwise to take anything at face value.

"Didn't really."

"Do they know what's going on, or are they still buying the BS about gas leaks and food poisoning?"

"You'd have to be pretty dense to believe the spin anymore. Half the time Dave and Vince don't even bother. The whole PD knows about the Troubles. But the Guard did a pretty good job spreading their side of the Barn story. So most everyone thinks you either left town so you didn't have to go into the Barn, or you went in unwillingly, and that's why it didn't work."

"Unwilling because I'd rather be sleeping with you."

"Basically."

"Well I'm glad I pretty much substantiated that rumor."

"Yeah. Thanks for that."

But when she rolled her eyes he let the cracks show in his mask of disapproval. They'd gravitated closer during their discussion and his face was only a few inches from hers. She could see the specks of blue in his eyes and she itched to count them, run her fingers up his cheekbones and bury them in his hair, kiss his slightly parted lips.

He was staring at her just as intently. The thread of their conversation lost, she leaned in closer.

"We are not making out here."

His voice startled her, but she didn't pull away. She licked her lips and watched him gulp. "We are so making out here. We spent far too long not making out here. If we're going to spend most of our time at the station, making out will happen. Unless you think you can resist me?"

She leaned even closer but didn't touch him, waiting for him to make that move.

His resolve held for a few seconds before he caved. "Not sure the point of tryin'."

"Good man," she whispered.

"Terrible cop," he countered before closing the distance between them. The kiss was unhurried and gentle, obviously not going anywhere since they were indeed at work, but it thrilled her nevertheless.

"Eh," she murmured when they pulled away. "Rules are overrated." She leaned forward to kiss him again but he shifted his head slightly so she could feel his warm breath on her ear.

"Later," he whispered.

She jerked away with a laugh. He looked as dazed as she felt, and she just wanted to lock the door, close the blinds, and make later now.

"This is why you need to have your own office."

"Point taken." She pushed her chair away to put a respectable amount of distance between them, but he kept gazing at her in a way that was definitely not work appropriate.

"My father is probably rolling in his grave," he finally said.

"Rattling in his cooler?" she shot back, unable to help herself.

"That's not funny." But his lips twitched upwards, and she laughed.

"Yeah it is."

His smile faltered. "He told me not to fall in love with you."

He'd gotten too serious all of a sudden, and she wanted to banish that. "Let me guess. He was not a fan of office PDAs."

"He really wasn't. But that wasn't it. He told me you were too important to the town."

That surely meant something. Garland had worked with Lucy for God's sake and had never said a thing to Nathan or Audrey, and that was something they'd have to explore. But it wasn't going to stop them. "Good thing you never listened to your father."

"Yeah. We should go over that Guard list." After pulling the file up on his computer Nathan grilled her on names and abilities until her phone vibrated across the desk. Grateful for the distraction, she was even gladder after she read the text.

"We have to go to the Gull for lunch. Duke's bored."

"Well let me drop this and get my running shoes," he deadpanned.

She rolled her eyes. "James is there."

There was something so endearingly paternal in the way he perked up at the mention of their son's name that she didn't make him scramble for an excuse to change his mind. She just stood up and reached for her coat.

"Besides, once we tell Duke the Guard runs the town he may not leave the Gull till we sort this all out."

"Wouldn't that be lucky?" Nathan said from behind her, but there was no bite in it, and she wasn't fooled for a moment.

\*\

Duke was behind the bar when they entered the Grey Gull. But there was definitely something strange about the way he scrutinized them as they entered his restaurant. "Well if it isn't my favorite officers of the law."

"What's with the look?" Audrey asked.

"He's trying to figure out if we had sex." Nathan tried to sound longsuffering about it, but he didn't stammer or shy away from Duke's innuendo, and Audrey could read the pride in that.

Part of her wanted to knock the boys' heads together and tell them to keep her out of their pointless alpha male pissing contests. But if Duke was going to butt into their sex life, she might as well give Nathan the upper hand in this one.

"Wrong question," she teased. "How about how many times?"

"I'm glad it's easy to pretend you're not my parents."

She hadn't noticed that James was already in the restaurant. _Way to make your already extremely awkward relationship with you son even worse_, she internally chided, hiding her face in Nathan's shoulder for a few seconds as she stifled a giggle. "You were not supposed to hear that. I am so sorry."

"Glad the over sharing was for my benefit, then," Duke quipped.

"She's already announced it to the entire police department. Might as well tell you next."

"You did what?" Duke asked.

She settled on one of the stools and leaned across the bar. "Don't you guys watch TV? Partners are never supposed to fall for each other, and they always do, and then they spend an aggravating half a season trying to hide their relationship from their co-workers. But the co-workers always find out, and there are bets and hijinks and we don't have time for that. And you're the boss so, figured we'd just get this all out in the open. Full disclosure."

"Did you send them a memo?" Duke asked.

"She stood on a desk and made an announcement."

"You didn't!" Duke seemed altogether too delighted about this.

"I did. I don't see what the big deal is."

"Audrey Parker, that is classic. Did he blush just like he's blushing now?"

"Did turn pretty red. I calmed him down though."

"Really," James interrupted. "I don't need to be here for this conversation."

Duke laughed, and Audrey found she was strangely pleased by his approval. "I'm happy for you guys. But can I just say – finally."

"You've said it. Now you can get over it." Nathan's voice was tight, but Audrey didn't think he was really mad. She reached out for his hand and linked their fingers together. He squeezed back slightly, reassuring her.

"Wow. Still a spoilsport. I really thought you'd be in a better mood considering—"

"So what's for lunch?" James interrupted.

"Your subtlety makes so much more sense because I know where it comes from," Duke said with a smirk.

He disappeared into the kitchen and returned with four perilously balanced plates. "Crabcakes. Finest Haven has to offer."

"These are divine," Audrey exclaimed after her first bite. Even better, it felt like comfort food. Something quintessentially Maine that would have marveled her before she got so wrapped up in the dark side of Haven. Sometimes she forgot that this place really was beautiful. That before she'd gotten distracted she'd been charmed by the sea and the beaches and the small town atmosphere that was so different for someone born in Cincinnati who'd spent years living in Boston. One could build a life here, away from all the hassles of big city living – if not for its residents' supernatural maladies.

"I told you."

She rolled her eyes, but she didn't hide her smile. "Yeah, yeah. Like you needed the ego boost."

"Care to tell me why everyone in town is so grumpy nowadays? My seafood man looked at me like I was a ghost and then grossly overcharged me."

Audrey looked at Nathan, glad the man no longer seemed delighted at the prospect of telling Duke. She'd found his paranoia about tattooed men amusing on more than one occasion, but it wasn't a joke anymore. The Guard had taken over the town, they'd made Nathan suffer, and they were a threat to everything she cared about. She hated that maybe they'd steal Duke's good humor as well.

Their eyes locked, and she could tell he was wondering if she wanted to be the one to break the news. But she didn't, so she shook her head.

"What am I missing here?" Duke asked, suspicion creeping into his tone about their little display.

"The Guard practically runs Haven now," Nathan revealed. "They'll be after Audrey for not taking the Troubles away. If they find out you're the one who helped her out of the Barn they'll probably target you too. You might want to lay low for awhile. Delay the Gull's reopening until we get this straightened out."

Audrey held her breath and waited for the hysterics. But Duke didn't leap from his stool and start gesticulating. Instead he set down his fork and muttered, "Damn." He ran a hand through his hair, which he hadn't bothered to pull back into a ponytail today. "I'm guessing Vince isn't in charge anymore?"

"No," Nathan answered.

Duke took a deep, steadying breath. Instead of panic overtaking him Audrey watched in awe as he seemed to pull himself together, like a fed during a pre-op. "So how do we stop them?"

She wasn't expecting his voice to be steady, or tempered with steel. He was so different from the man who'd demanded police protection after he thought he'd saw a man with the tattoo in the grocery store.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked. Audrey hadn't realized she'd been staring.

"I expected you to be freaking out," she admitted, shaking her head to try and clear the notion. He'd come such a long way since they first met, and she'd been so wrapped up in everything she hadn't even noticed. "But it's like you're all grown up."

Something raw and honest seemed to flash across his face for a moment, but it melted so quickly into his typical cheek she didn't have a chance to analyze it. "Why Officer Parker, that was extraordinarily condescending. I'll have you know I'm quite capable of keeping a cool head in a dangerous situation. I did all right when my ship was commandeered by those poker freaks, if you recall."

"I absolutely remember that you can strip on command," she teased.

"That was your brilliant plan, sweetheart."

Despite all the danger they'd been in, that had still been a good day. "I figured why not. Take out the bad guys, keep your ship from sinking, get a little show in the process."

"I don't recall you telling me how you got the upper hand on the boat," Nathan said. Duke had specifically asked her not to mention it, even though she'd known Nathan would have been delighted by the story. She supposed it did sound a bit scandalous, and she hoped Duke had the tact not to turn it into something it wasn't.

"You better watch out, Nathan. She ever hands you an earpiece and tells you to do whatever she says you don't know what she might come up with in that twisted mind of hers. An officer of the law."

Grateful, she plastered on a fake scowl. "You really want to play that card, Crocker, when your boat got taken over because of something you were smuggling?"

"So, did Vince and Dave have anything to say about how we solve this little problem?"

Audrey laughed at Duke's abrupt change of topic. It felt good to know their news about the Guard hadn't wigged him out. And that even if Duke was maturing, he was still a lovable smartass. He'd always known how to keep her amused and distracted, and she had a feeling she'd need that more than ever in the coming months.

"Not really," she answered. "But I think I'll be able to crack Dave if I work at it enough. He told me Sarah kept a journal, and she was working on a plan to stay. If we can just figure out what she did with it it might have some clues we need."

"She left it for me," James said.

Audrey stared at the man who'd mostly been quietly observing their conversation. For some reason the idea had never occurred to her, but it made perfect sense.

"Do you still have it?" she asked.

"No. I gave it to Lucy, like I was supposed to. But I have this." He reached into a pocket of his flannel shirt and pulled out a folded, yellowed sheet of paper and a photograph.

Audrey took them almost reverently, setting the letter down in front of her but holding on to the picture. She had so little proof of her former lives. She held her breath as she stared at the photo of Sarah standing on a beach with little James in her arms. It was like looking at the Colorado Kid photo – her features were the same, but the hair was so unfamiliar it didn't seem like her. The photo was black and white, so all she could tell about her hair color was it had been darker than it was now, but she'd never had such tight, short curls.

But it wasn't herself she kept staring at. It was the baby she was cradling so reverently. Audrey had never thought herself maternal—frankly babies were needy and a bit scary. Finding out she'd had one she'd forgotten about had shaken her, but as much as she'd intellectually understood the Colorado Kid was her son there was still some part of her that hadn't internalized it. She wanted to know James, to bond with him and form a relationship. But they looked about the same age now and he already had a mother who raised him. She supposed she'd have to settle with being a friend and to be honest that hadn't bothered her much. But something stirred in her as she stared at the photo. The wind had been cold that day, the first sign of summer's fading, and she had known she was nearly out of time. As desperately as she loved her son it would not keep her here, and she needed to protect him at all costs. She'd been overwhelmed by a love so deep and a despair so encompassing it had almost torn her in two. She did not want to leave her son. But his father was the only thing that could save her, and he wasn't even born yet.

"Parker, are you all right?" Nathan's hand on her shoulder pulled her from her reverie. Instinct made her wipe her hand under her nose, but she wasn't bleeding. She didn't want to move her head for fear it would shake the memory further away, but it was already fading.

But the love it had revealed was left behind. She glanced over at James and had to fight an overwhelming urge to throw her arms around him and never let go.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she answered, feeling hot tears leak from her eyes.

"Audrey?" Nathan's voice was soft with concern, and he was so focused on her reaction he hadn't even looked at what she was holding. And something twisted inside her, because she barely even remembered this, but Nathan had known Sarah.

She passed it to him. "Our son," she choked, waiting for the despair to wash over him at the sight of everything he should have had. If he'd never gone back to his own time Sarah would have loved him without any of Audrey's baggage, and even if they hadn't been able to stop the Barn he would have had their son to raise. Nathan would be too outstanding a father to give in to despair if he had a child to love.

But the pain she waited for never appeared. Nathan stared at the photo in awe, and when he turned to her he was grinning. He brushed her tears away with the pads of this thumbs and then cradled her head as he kissed her. When they came up for air he didn't let go. His eyes also seemed to be sparkling with tears.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?"

"For giving us our son."

She wanted to tell him she had nothing to do with it, but the way he was looking at her like she was the most precious thing in all the world convinced her how much he believed it had always been her, no matter what memories she had. She needed that certainty to face whatever was ahead. She wanted to believe her past, fractured as it was, was a single narrative of looking for him.

"You're incredible," she told him, needing him to understand how much he held her together. He had a terrible habit of never giving himself enough credit, and she supposed it came from decades of the Chief's tough love and his isolating affliction.

He ran his finger down her face. "And we're making the others uncomfortable. Read the letter."

She had forgotten Duke and James were there, and she blushed at the thought of them witnessing such intimacy. Maybe it was going to be challenging to work with Nathan now. He'd never been able to capture her attention so thoroughly that the rest of the world fell away. Being observant was critical to being a cop, but now she just wanted to observe him. She'd never been able to shake her drive in any other relationship.

He handed her the letter so she didn't have to risk meeting anyone else's eye as she reached for it. She unfolded it carefully. The paper was fragile and the creases were frayed and pronounced, as if it had been read and refolded many times.

The only cursive she used anymore was in her signature, but she recognized those few oft-written letters in Sarah's script. Taking a deep breath, she began reading.

_Dearest James,_

_I wish that you could grow up hearing every day just how much I love you. It breaks my heart that I can only pray that you have a happy childhood rather than giving you one myself. June and Paul are kind, generous people, and you will be safe with them. I do not know if they will mention me. I doubt it, but maybe that is just as well. It will be safer for you to grow up in ignorance. Better, perhaps, not to know that I exist at all until it is time for us to meet again._

_For I, Sarah Vernon, am the woman who gave birth to you – not June Cogan._

_I am sorry if that is a shock, and news that you do not wish to hear._

_I need you to understand two things about this revelation – that your mother loved you desperately, and there was nothing shameful about your birth. _

_If I could rewrite the rules of the universe to stay with you then I would in a heartbeat. The reasons why such drastic measures would be necessary cannot be contained in a single letter, but you must know this – you were never unwanted. I have loved you from the moment I knew you were on your way, and I shall hold on to the memory of the first time I held you for as long as I can._

_As for your father – he was the most wondrous man I ever met. Handsome, kind, brave. When I looked into his eyes it was as if I saw countless lifetimes together, and in each one he adored me. Had we only the luxury of time we would have done everything properly so there could be no word of scandal to disparage us. But our time together was very brief. By the time I knew I was pregnant he was long gone._

_This diary contains a very strange tale, and it is your choice whether you wish to read it. Doing so will open your eyes to a world you never imagined, and part of me wishes to shield you from that. But part of me wants you to know the extraordinary tale of where you came from. The choice is yours._

_There is one thing I ask of you. You were born in a town called Haven, Maine, about fifty miles north of Portland. In the spring of1983 I need you to come looking for me. You will not find Sarah Vernon. Perhaps some will tell you she had come to town once and disappeared years ago. I suspect most will tell you nothing at all._

_Do not be discouraged. Because Sarah will not be in Haven – but I will be, with a different name, and a different hairstyle, and no memory that I have been there before. I will not have aged, and I will not remember that I sent you here or that I've ever birthed a child._

_If you need help finding me look for Vince and Dave Teagues. Someone once told me I would find them running the local newspaper. It seems fitting that now I tell you the same. Show them the photo I've left with this letter, and tell them that Sarah needs them to help you find her new self. I fear they will still mourn me, so do not be harsh with them. But do not let them play dumb. If I have returned they will know, and do not let them pretend otherwise._

_You must give me this journal. I know what I ask of you seems impossibly strange, and the truth is what I've just told you only scratches the surface. But your father once told me, "You don't need to be afraid of what you can't explain," and that advice has sustained me through everything I have experienced since I met him. As tragic as my life feels in this moment, knowing I must leave you to be raised by someone else, I have faith that our time together is not ending – it is only being delayed. I had hoped to find a way to stay with you, but it seems we both must wait. But I am confident that there is an end in sight to the cycle I am trapped in. My future self must know what I discovered so perhaps she can bring about that end._

_Give me this journal, and tell me to read it, and my curiosity will do the rest. Because there is something about this town that I cannot resist, no matter who I am, and as my fate seems to be tied to it I will do whatever I can to free us both. I just need time, and information, and a friend by my side._

_Perhaps it is selfish of me, but I hope you will be that friend._

_Travel safe, my darling. Do not judge your father for leaving me, and do not judge me for falling into temptation. For ours is a love that transcends reason, capable of amazing things, of which you will always be its first and greatest gift._

_With all my love,_

_Sarah_

She wanted to reread it until she'd memorized every word and could remember writing it and all the emotion that must have gone into composing what was both a goodbye and an introduction. She'd thought about writing a goodbye letter for Nathan before the Barn arrived, but she'd given up on the notion because she hadn't been able to find the words. Sarah had an eloquence she'd never possessed as Audrey Parker, and an adoration for the two men who'd been in her life for such a short while that Audrey wished she could express.

"Did you read the diary?" she asked James when she could finally speak. He looked slightly uncomfortable, and how could he not be. She was neither the woman who'd birthed him or the one he'd gone looking for. If he'd ever bonded with Lucy the circumstances surrounding his death had sullied that.

"Of course. Introduction like that, how could I not?"

In that he was surely his mother's son. "What did it say?"

"That shortly after Sarah arrived in Haven she fell in love with a man from the future, but she had to send him back to his own timeline. She befriended a pair of newspaper men, and together they helped people in town with supernatural problems. She learned that she bore a striking resemblance to someone who'd visited the town nearly thirty years ago. She discovered that there was another Sarah Vernon in Washington. That she didn't just look like Margaret Thomas, she was Margaret Thomas. That for as far back as she could trace she had visited the town with a new name and a new look every twenty-seven years and the Troubles always stopped when she left. But they always came back, and so did she. She said she was looking for a way to end the Troubles without going away. But she ran out of time, so she needed a safe place for me. June was a friend of the real Sarah, and she knew she wasn't able to have children of her own, so she left me in Colorado with her and her husband and asked them to give me the letter and the journal in 1983."

"Did she mention anything she'd learned about staying?"

"She was vague. She'd make comments sometimes about how she dared not write down what she'd learned. I'm not sure who she thought would read it. But there was a sealed letter to Lucy inside. Maybe she told her."

"Lucy ever mention any ideas about how to stay out of the Barn?" Nathan asked.

The bottom seemed to drop out of Audrey's stomach, because she realized that Lucy had. But she wasn't ready to hear Nathan tell her she should kill him for the good of the town. That wasn't an option, and she didn't want to fight about it with others around. She looked at James with wide, panicked eyes.

He simply shook his head. "Nah." She smiled at him and tried to calm herself down before the others noticed.

"So where's the journal now?" Duke asked.

"No idea. Lucy still had it when I was killed. She carried it around with her sometimes. I don't know if she had it when she went into the Barn."

"We'll have to see if there's any of Lucy's stuff anywhere," Nathan suggested. "Should be easier to find something that's only been missing thirty years instead of sixty."

"Yeah." It was a needle in a haystack, but it was encouraging to know that at least there was something in that haystack to find. She fingered the letter. "Can I borrow this? Maybe it'll spark something. It would be a whole lot easier if I could just remember where Lucy put the diary – or what she and Sarah knew in the first place."

James nodded. "Sure. And I'll write down anything I recall reading. I was pretty blown away by how crazy everything was so I'm sure the finer details escaped me, but maybe I'll remember something that means something to you."

"Thank you." She reached out and clasped her hand over his. It wasn't the embrace she yearned for, but it was a start. Maybe one day they could both see her as that woman standing on the beach, but for now they had a shared objective and a basic understanding of their past.

"We ought to get back to the station." She wasn't sure what she could do there exactly. She needed the _Herald_ archives and the diary of a woman who was essentially dead. But her head always seemed clear at the station. She'd feel productive and she and Nathan could come up with some next steps. And there were still plenty of Troubled people that needed her help, so she was sure to have some casework soon.

"Probably," Nathan echoed.

"Thanks for lunch," she told Duke, piling her silverware and napkin on her plate and then stacking that plate on Nathan's.

"Thanks for crying and making out with Nathan right in front of us."

"Shut up!" she said, but she couldn't stop the grin that bubbled up inside her.

"There's that smile. Keep your chin up. We'll figure this out."

Duke was all anyone could ask for in a brother – supportive, amusing, and desperately afraid of sentimentality. She wasn't sure she'd be able to keep sane without him.

"You be careful, all right?"

"If there's one thing I'm good at, it's hiding from bastards with maze tattoos. I'm not going to let them get me now. Don't you worry."

She could feel Nathan's hand on her back as they all said their goodbyes. She and Duke needed words but with Nathan his presence was enough, and that was something altogether different and absolutely wonderful. And as they returned to the station Audrey realized that she didn't have to be jealous. Because Sarah may have had a man who loved her and a child she remembered, but Audrey Parker had a family.


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: I'm building quite a Haven writing playlist. Please let me know if you have any suggestions. Current Nathan/Audrey favorite – "Gone, Gone, Gone" by Phillip Phillips. _

* * *

The rest of the afternoon passed fairly uneventfully, except for the mysterious brown paper bag that Nathan retrieved from the kitchen before they left the station.

"What's that?" Audrey asked as she shrugged into her coat.

"What usually comes in paper bags?"

"Booze. Porn. Drugs."

"Funny," he deadpanned.

"Seriously. What's in there?"

"It's honestly killing you not knowing, isn't it?"

"Just tell me." She reached for him, and he stepped nimbly out of the way.

"No cheating."

"Spoilsport," she huffed.

He laughed, but he also relented, tipping the bag forward so she could see its contents.

"Groceries?" She'd honestly been expecting something a little more mysterious.

"I asked Stan to pick up a few things."

"Hmmm. Running the Chief's errands. What did the poor guy do to deserve that?"

"Did you really want to spend this evening in a grocery store?"

"Ugg, no. I hate shopping."

"My kitchen isn't exactly well stocked at the moment. So Stan picked up a few things on his lunch break. Because he's a friend."

"I figured we'd just grab something."

"Duke's not the only one who can feed you, you know."

She'd just been rattling his chain, but it was obvious she struck a nerve. "Wow. That was quite a tone there, Wuornos."

She watched his whole body rise and fall as he took a deep breath. "I just thought I'd make us something nice, okay. But if you want to go to the Gull—"

"I'd appreciate that," she interrupted, reaching out to settle a hand on his arm. "Really."

She could tell he was still agitated on the drive home by the way he clenched the steering wheel, his knuckles white against the black leather.

"You don't have to be jealous. Have you forgotten the past forty-eight hours? I chose you."

"I'm not jealous," he argued, but there was no conviction behind it.

"Yeah you are. And you don't have to be. I didn't mean to offend your manhood by implying I prefer Duke's cooking. It's just – he owns a restaurant. Makes sense he's pretty good at it."

"I want to be the one who takes care of you," he admitted.

She was beginning to understand where his head was at. "I'd really like to argue that I don't need to be taken care of, just on principal. But in this case I do want someone to feed me."

"You don't need anyone, I get that. Doesn't mean you don't deserve someone."

She couldn't remember anyone ever offering. She hadn't even had parents to look out for her. Her foster families made it clear she was just a paycheck and an extra set of hands for the chores. Independence wasn't a choice, it was the only way to survive. Except that had been the real Audrey Parker's life, and even though she remembered it she hadn't lived it. She didn't know if she'd ever had parents. _When_ she might have had parents. It made her head hurt to think about, and it made something inside her ache for a normal, uncomplicated life. She'd thought chasing Lucy and finding her birthmother would tell her more about who she was, make her whole. All it had done was reveal that everything she thought she could count on was a lie.

Everything except the man beside her, who was staring a little too deliberately out the windshield. Had she messed things up so thoroughly that he was already convinced of her rejection? Probably. She reached out one of her hands to cover his on the steering wheel, eliciting one labored breath. She went no further, not wanting to tease or distract him. She just wanted him to know that she was there.

"Thank you," she said simply, for once all her volumes of words failing her.

He turned to look at her then. "You're not going to fight me on this?"

"I think we've wasted enough time fighting with each other. Besides, I think we both could use someone looking out for us for a change."

She was used to his serious expressions, but he was extraordinarily handsome when he smiled, and she resolved to give him plenty of reasons to do so more often.

"Eyes on the road, mister," she finally said. "It'll be real embarrassing when we get pulled over for reckless driving."

Once they reached his house Nathan turned on the stove and started unpacking the groceries.

"So, what's for dinner?" she asked. "Or is it a big surprise?"

"Lobster," he answered. "Seem to recall you're fond of that."

"Oh, absolutely. Do you need any help?"

He shook his head. "I'd like my kitchen to still be standing by the end of the night."

"It's still impossible sometimes to tell that you're joking."

"Who says that I'm joking?" But he cracked as she scowled at him, pulling her forward to brush a kiss across her lips so brief it was over before she even realized what was happening. It was such a strange, familiar gesture, as if they'd been together for years and not less than two days. But already he was pushing her toward the door. "I'll take care of dinner. Go. Relax. Change into something comfortable. I'll find you when its ready."

It was as if he understood how new and strange this was for her, to spend every waking moment with someone, even him, and he was giving her space to chill and process.

It wasn't until she'd shut herself in his bedroom and opened the duffle bag of clothes she'd brought from the Gull that date etiquette started to overwhelm her. He'd told her to change into something comfortable, but had that been code for switching her work attire with something sexier? He was making her a lobster dinner, surely with romance on his mind, and if he was anyone else she'd feel the need to impress him. But she honestly thought Nathan had no expectations that she'd emerge in anything but some comfy sweats – and she also knew she didn't have to wear anything alluring to turn him on. If she did pick out something nice for him, would he think she was trying too hard or would he appreciate the effort?

Still uncertain, she pulled her cell phone out the pocket of her slacks.

As she glanced at the screen the missed voicemail icon she'd been dutifully ignoring since she left the Barn caught her eye. As long as she wasn't looking at the shadows under Nathan's eyes it was pretty easy to forget how long she'd been gone, but something about the idea of listening to the messages someone had left her during that time filled her with dread. She wasn't sure why her phone was even still functioning when she hadn't paid a bill in two years. But such logic didn't seem to matter much in Haven. Truth was her social security number and bank account belonged to a brunette amnesiac in Boston, and yet their paper trails had never crossed.

It wasn't like there were many people lining up to call her even when she was in town, she tried to convince herself. Rarely did she let fear smoother her curiosity. She was being ridiculous, and with nothing to do until dinner was ready she was out of excuses to put this off. With a deep breath she activated her voicemail and entered her password.

"You have thirty-three new voice messages," the perpetually cheerful automated voice told her. Audrey was nearly certain she'd misheard. She didn't think she'd gotten that many messages in her entire life. Especially if her life started the day she came to Haven.

She wasn't expecting the first voice she heard to be Nathan's, hoarse and frantic with a rasp that could have been blood rattling in his lungs.

"_Parker, get out of there now! Howard's dead and the Barn's breaking up. Duke's coming. You have to go with him. Don't be noble – something's wrong. Come back."_

His desperation stole her breath. Suddenly she was back on Kick 'Em Jenny Neck, watching the betrayal flash across his face as she'd given Duke her gun. She'd hated that their goodbye was steeped in agony. She'd rather the last thing she remembered be the way his eyes had fluttered shut when she kissed him.

Her finger trembled as she saved the message.

By the time the next one started she had a terrible sense that she knew how all of them would go.

"_I'm at the hospital. Dunno if Duke told you, but Jordan shot me. But I'm okay. They patched me up. Gave me some meds. Waste of time, though. I don't feel anything. The Troubles aren't gone. The meteors didn't stop. Nothing's fixed. Whatever the Barn was supposed to do didn't work. So there's no reason for you to stay away. You need to come back. Because the town needs you. Because I need you. Please, Audrey."_

A tear coursed down her cheek. Nathan Wuornos wasn't a begging man. But his voice, drugged and feeble, pleaded with her. And she hadn't obliged.

"_I'm going to find you, Parker. Whatever it takes. However long it takes."_

There was the man she knew, determined and stubborn and fearless. But he didn't stay that way. The shades of desperation in each subsequent message shifted between grief and anger, frustration and despair, but it was always something consuming him. Driving him to confess what he probably wouldn't say to her face, with far more words that he normally uttered at once.

Just like watching an accident on the highway, she couldn't tear herself away.

"_It's been a week. Damn it Parker, I don't know what to do. Troubles are popping up all over the place and you're the one who always talked everyone down. I can't convince anyone everything is going to be okay when I don't believe it."_

He recounted events she'd read about in the police reports. The rise of the Guard and its threat of a purge of all non-Troubled. He'd been frantic when he introduced the possibility, exhausted when he declared the crisis averted. The exhaustion seemed to linger. No matter what other emotions his words conveyed, he always sounded bone-weary.

"_Today a Guardsman held a gun to my head and I almost told him to pull the trigger. I wanted him to. But I could hear your voice, telling me to man up. I knew that you'd be ashamed of me. You wanted me to live. That's why you wouldn't let me follow you into the Barn. You wanted me to have a life and look after the town and be there when you returned so next time someone would just be straight with you. I want to be that man you thought I was. But I'm not. My father was right. I'm weak. Always have been." _

Tears ran down her face as she choked back a sob. She felt paralyzed in a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. What if he hadn't thought of her in that moment? What if she'd come back and he'd been in the ground with no chance, however faint, of resurrection?

"_I'm not sure if you can hear me. Sometimes I hope you can't. Because I can't bear the thought of you stuck someplace, listening to this, feeling sorry for me, wondering what's going to happen. But I want to believe that the Troubles haven't stopped because you're out there somewhere, still you. That Duke found you so you aren't alone and the two of you are looking for a way back. With James. That one day you'll come back to town and nothing that's happened in the past year will matter, because you'll fix it. You'll fix me. And if there's anyone in this whole damn word stubborn enough to break fate and come back it's you."_

In a few of the messages she could hear the alcohol on his breath. She thought of the Chief with his list of vices, explaining with his dying breath all the ways he'd tried to hold together, and she couldn't blame him for trying to find some solace.

"_I went to Colorado. Thought maybe there'd be some clue about all this. But June Cogan's mind is gone and no one would tell me why there are Guard symbols plastered all over her house. And the whole time all I could think was it should have been me by your side when you discovered that James was our son. And that I should have told you about Sarah. I made so many mistakes. I was afraid you wouldn't forgive me for that one. I tried to resist. But she was just so … you. She looked at me the way you did when I told you I'd found Lucy Ripley. And all I'd seen in your eyes when you'd looked at me for so long was disgust. I just wanted to remember the way we used to be … how we could have been. She looked so disappointed when I turned away, and for once I knew how to fix that. And as soon as you touched me I was lost. It's not an excuse but – I'm not sorry. Because even if he's gone now James was proof that the two of us lived, and loved, and rang some small scrap of happiness out of this godforsaken place."_

To hear that he'd thought she'd been disgusted with him was like a knife to her gut. She'd been exhausted and frustrated, terrified out of her mind he'd get caught up in the crossfire of whatever supernatural soap opera her life had become, but the only one she'd been disgusted with was herself. She'd hated herself for not being able to stand the fact he could be happy with Jordan, couldn't abide that he was keeping his distance even though she'd done everything in her power to make that happen. Her list of mistakes was just as long as his, and she'd started penning hers first. She'd hated the situation, but she'd never hated him. She wished that it had been her on that beach, not Sarah, because she wanted to go back in time and absolve him. He shouldn't have had to find another version of her just to see her smile again.

"_You know what I'm really scared of, Parker? It's not waiting for you. Twenty-seven years is a long time, but I'll do it. I'll wait through every damn day just to do this all over again, just like you said. Even if I'm old and you don't remember any of this – it'll be okay. But what terrifies me is maybe you aren't coming back. What if you're dead? What if you've been dead since the moment that Barn broke up? Sometimes I can't breathe because I'm so sure that I've killed you. That by shooting Howard I destroyed the Barn with you in it. And James. And then I sent Duke to his death. The only three people I care about dead because I was too damned selfish to let you go. And what if you knew, in those last moments, that all this was my fault. You wanted to sacrifice yourself for Haven and instead of saving you I made your death meaningless. Except maybe I didn't. I don't know. And twenty-seven years of not knowing…how am I supposed to bear it?"_

She had to pause before she listened to the next message, her heart pounding so fast she felt flushed and faint. How many had it been? How much longer could she do this to herself? Surely he'd never meant for her to hear all this. It was like talking to a gravestone, with the perk of her voice on the answering machine. He'd just been trying to cope and she was back now and it didn't matter, because he hadn't killed her. He'd saved her, and maybe he had damned the town to do it but she was glad she hadn't waited another twenty-five years to return.

But he had spent two years in hell and she had fast forwarded through it all and if he could pull himself through it somehow then she could listen to the evidence.

She went on to the next message.

"_It's starting to hurt less, you being gone. I should be glad about that, but I'm not. Because I know what it means. It's not that I've accepted this is the way it should be. I'll never believe that. I'm just starting to forget what pain feels like. When my Trouble came back I was scared and angry. But by the time you came to Haven that had faded. I was just numb, inside and out. You made me feel things inside again long before you touched me. But I'm losing all of that. And the day I forget how much it hurts that you're gone will be like you've died all over again."_

She couldn't fathom anything being worse than pain, but she understood something about emptiness. All her life the mystery of her parents had been a void she couldn't fill, not with boys or school or a successful career. Maybe that hadn't been Audrey at all. Maybe that had been who she really was, some mythical child of Haven, lost or damned or something, either searching for the truth of her existence or living out her penitence.

Was that why they trusted each other? Because at the end of the day, they both just wanted to feel alive?

"_I never told you I loved you. At first I thought it would mess things up between us. Then you got kidnapped and started pushing me away and I figured you wouldn't even care. But I should have told you anyway. I should have made sure you knew instead of assuming you had to. Because what the hell were we doing? I didn't care about Jordan, and I don't think you really wanted Duke. We knew you'd have to leave. So why didn't we make the most of every minute we had left instead of barely speaking to each other? I should have kissed you. I should have showed you how I felt since I couldn't find the words. I shouldn't have let you run before you were even gone. We could have made those last few months something beautiful, instead of something ugly. We wasted our chance, and I just want it back."_

The operator's voice returned, telling her the mailbox was full and she should delete unwanted messages. She wanted to delete them all, not just from her phone, but from her brain, and also Nathan's life. She wanted to go back to three days ago, after the reunion, and when Nathan said he was going to look at satellites with Duke she wanted to demand that he stay. To give him one beautiful memory to hold on to that was completely her. To spend the early hours of the dawn reminding him what kind of man she knew he was, so he wouldn't question it once she was gone. To explain how she could never be disgusted with him. To tell him that she loved him, and sometimes it felt like she always had.

"Dinner's almost ready," Nathan called as he entered, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw her clutching her phone, her face a splotchy mess.

"I was hoping you wouldn't get those." His hand rubbed the back of his neck in vain. He looked contrite and embarrassed, like a boy caught doing something wrong. But that notion was absurd. Loving her was his biggest sin, and she couldn't fault him for that.

"Nathan." All she could manage was a shaky exhale. She hated herself for the weakness. He deserved someone who could be strong for him. But listening to a two year litany of his pain had brought her to her knees, metaphorically, and she felt as sick and useless as she had after Duke had told her about the Hunter.

Her distress seemed to compound his own. "Don't cry, Parker."

Something in his plaintive tone launched her forward. She crossed the room in a few quick steps and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his solid chest and breathing him in. She could smell seafood from the kitchen, but underneath that was the familiar scent that was uniquely him. He wasn't some tortured voice on a phone she couldn't reach – he was here.

"You're not alone anymore," she mumbled. He had tensed when she had grabbed him, but he was beginning to settle, his heartbeat slowing, the anxiety at her state flowing out of him as he got used to the prolonged contact. His arms came around her, warm and comforting.

"I know." It sounded like he did, but tones could be deceiving. She didn't know how he could let go of so much so quickly. Three days ago she'd been gone, and he'd been a maelstrom of misery.

"I won't leave you alone again." Her hands worked at the back of his shirt, desperate to find their way under, _skin on skin contact is better_, to seal her promise with a reassurance only she could give him.

And when she finally spread her hand across his lower back he arched into her, inhaling sharply. There had been so much touching since she returned, yet she could still send him reeling.

"Dinner," he protested with a cracked voice, but she was far more concerned with not wasting this chance.

"Dinner can wait," she declared as she pulled his shirt over his head.

* * *

Later they tossed the lobster and she watched him from one of his kitchen stools as he made pancakes. There was a surety to his movements as he measured and mixed ingredients that she found fascinating. He couldn't feel the spatula he was holding, but he used it deftly. Occasionally he broke focus to glance back at her. She was wearing his shirt and little else, and when she caught him looking at her legs rather than her face she recrossed them deliberately, giggling at the flush that crept up his neck. But he didn't look away, taunting her right back by trying to make her forget it was her rumbling stomach that had driven them from the bedroom.

She'd banished their anguish with the feel of his skin against hers, warm and soft and forgiving. They'd burned through all their emotions and pushed them off the cliff with them until she was empty and calm. He'd made her delete the messages, voice rough as he swore he believed she was back and had forgiven him. She hadn't been able to find the words for those apologies, so she'd imprinted them on his skin, imagining them sinking deep inside of him, taking root in his brain and his heart, waking every part of him so he'd never feel less than whole again.

"It's my mother's recipe," he said as he placed a steaming plate before her, looking proud and anxious as if after everything he still needed this to win her approval. The weight of the revelation made them even sweeter. She could picture him, a shadow at his mother's side, watching carefully to learn the secret art. The image did something funny to her insides, twisting them up in a way that wasn't unpleasant.

Of course the pancakes were delicious. But she would have sworn they were no matter what they tasted like, and meant every word.

It was a long overdue moment, unsullied by the past or future. Troubles be damned; they'd been heading toward this ever since she'd noticed that her partner was handsome and kind and had a fixation on pancakes. And even if it had taken them far too long to get here, the wait had been worth it.

As Nathan took a seat beside her and clunked his glass of orange juice against hers, for the first time in any life she could remember Audrey felt like she was home.

* * *

_Please tell me what you think. And Happy Easter!_


	11. Chapter 11

_**Author's Note: **Oh yeah, there was supposed to be a plot in here somewhere, right?_

_Nathan/Audrey musical selection for the day: "Cosmic Love" by Florence + The Machine._

_Thanks to everyone for their lovely reviews!_

* * *

The calm she instilled in him never lasted long after they left his house. As each day wore on Audrey watched Nathan's shoulders drag toward the earth and tension build in his jaw, the cords of his neck bulging and leaving her with a constant, aching need to smooth them away that was hardly ever appropriate in the workplace. At this rate she figured he'd grind his teeth to the gums in a matter of months. She tried being flip and irreverent but he rarely smiled. Even attempted sincerity once but that just made him uncomfortable.

It was far worse when they were at a crime scene. He panicked every time Laverne called in a disturbance, and they'd nearly had another screaming match when he tried to bench her. The way he searched for Guard members around every corner almost made her wish she had stayed behind. He was simultaneously hyper aware and thoroughly distracted and that was a terrible combination for a cop. She was used to him putting himself in harm's way without even thinking about it, but now he was just waiting to jump in front of a bullet for her and she couldn't stand the thought of that.

It took four days to work up a better plan than dragging him into a supply closest every time he got insufferable. (That had been fun, but the effect hadn't lasted nearly as long as she'd hoped, and she suspected from Joan's disapproving looks that the receptionist was on to them.)

"Think you can handle things at the station without me today?" she asked over breakfast.

"Aren't you feeling well?" he asked, his brow furrowing with concern.

It was an easy lie, but one that could easily backfire. He might offer to stay and take care of her, and then she'd need a new excuse tomorrow.

"Actually, I thought I'd spend the day with James. We've got a lot to work out, you know."

"Right." She could read his skepticism at her choice to spend an awkward day bonding instead of going to work. "You'll be careful?"

It took a lot of willpower not to roll her eyes. She understood why Nathan was worried and she was attempting to be patient, but he was driving her crazy. "We'll stay at the Gull. You may have noticed that Duke has a lot of guns. We'll be safe."

Her insides squirmed at the way he studied her but she tried to look casual even as she took in his appearance and committed to it memory – the hair she loved to run her hands through which always looked half mussed nowadays, the intense blue eyes overflowing with reverence, the broad shoulders and strong, strong arms. These past few days, despite the state of the town and Nathan's near constant anxiety, had meant more to her than anything else she could remember. She nearly gave up on the plan and followed him to the station, the possibility of losing this too much to fathom.

Except he was already crumbling at the thought of spending a day without her. She could see it in the way his arms were pressed too tightly to his sides, his hands clenched. The tiny gesture sucked the air out of the room, because she couldn't bear to see him set off by such a small thing and she wasn't going to be able to stand being expected to be constantly at his side much longer.

With renewed resolve she started toward him. "You better get to the station. Everyone'll blame me if the boss is late." She braced her hands on his shoulders and pushed herself up on tiptoes to kiss him – not hot and heavy like each night they returned to the safety of his house – but slow, tender, and filled with sentiments she didn't say often enough – and some never at all.

She resisted the urge to press her forehead against his and breathe him in. She'd give herself away if she acted too clingy so she let him go and stepped back before her body overrode her good sense. "Have a good day."

"Say hi to James for me."

She watched his truck drive away before she retrieved her cell phone from the bedroom.

Nathan's trusty cleaner answered on the second ring. "Dwight."

She was surprised by how glad she was to hear the kind, hulking man's voice.

"I need a favor."

"Audrey. You are back."

He sounded relieved but only mildly shocked. "So the word's already out, huh?"

"There were rumors. But I thought Nathan would be in a better mood if they were true."

She snorted at the man's candor. "That's kinda why I called. I need you to get me a meeting with the head of the Guard."

"That's a bad idea." Steel had flared up in the man's tone, reminding her that the gentle giant wasn't always so gentle. "They're real angry that you didn't stop the Troubles. You need to stay out of their way."

After all she'd seen and done, she wasn't about to be cowed by Dwight Hendrickson. "It's too late for that. Nathan and I ran into them the day I got back when they ambushed Alistair at the bank. Bernie said he was going to kill me. Nathan's been on edge ever since."

"How's it going to help him if you get killed sooner?"

"I'm not going to get killed." She was mostly sure of that. But there was some tiny part of her that had wanted to hold on to Nathan this morning and never let go that knew he'd be wrecked for good if this went south.

"This isn't the sort of man you mess with. Things have been bad here."

"So I've heard. Look, talking the Troubled down is kind of my specialty. And Bernie said he wasn't going to kill me until I understood what I'd done. I haven't been back long enough for that – but I can't delay this. I just have to make him see that killing me isn't actually in the Troubled's best interest."

"How are you going to do that?"

"I'm working that out."

"This is damned risky, Audrey." But she could tell she was wearing him down against his better judgment. There was a weariness in his tone she'd gotten used to hearing in Nathan's voice. Keeping the town together had worn these men down to their bones.

_Her fault_, Bernie had said.

She had to fix this.

"I know. But I have to do it. The Barn's destroyed and I need to find another way to stop the Troubles. And I can't do that with Nathan freaking out every time I leave his sight. I can't live being smothered – not even by him."

There was a long pause, until she heard him sigh. "I'll see what I can do."

She felt a rush of gratitude, relief, and anticipation, all wrapped up together in a way that set her stomach churning. "Thank you. So what can you tell me about Bernie Smith? He took over for Vince, right? What's his Trouble?" Nathan had been very thorough about everyone else on his list of Guard members, but he'd glossed over their leader, only telling her it didn't matter because she needed to stay clear of him. As if that wouldn't stoke her curiosity.

"Anything he reads comes true."

She realized almost instantly why his last name had seemed so familiar, aside from being so common. "Nathan and I have seen that before. Haven got hit by the ten plagues of Egypt because some guilty father had been reading a Bible. TJ Smith." It had been one hell of a day, Nathan dying outside with countless others while a woman with all her memories watched her talk down a man about to kill himself in front of his infant son. It had been so hard to stay composed when her mind was swimming with the consequences of her failure. Even then she'd known she couldn't stand the loss of her partner.

It was also one hell of a Trouble. TJ had thrown the whole town in chaos, and it had been completely unintentional.

The potential devastation if someone knew what they were doing was almost unimaginable.

"TJ was Bernie's brother. His house was hit by one of the meteors. Everyone inside was killed. TJ, his son, and his in-laws."

Audrey closed her eyes against the weight of the loss. Good, innocent people, one of them a baby. _Her fault._

"Bernie was an English teacher at the high school. His first day back after the funeral, he read a passage from King Leer. The whole class started going crazy. One kid actually blinded someone before another teacher heard the screaming."

"He didn't know he was Troubled before that?"

"No one else did, anyway. He was fired, of course. Some of the parents wanted to run him out of town. But others … the ones who were Troubled themselves … they rallied around him. He started making speeches about the injustices the Troubled faced. Started recruiting his students into the Guard. Instead of staying in the shadows he openly challenged the Rev's men. Took the Guard public. And made no qualms about killing anyone in his way."

There had definitely been something deadly and a little manic about the man lurking in what was almost charm. "Did he have a history of violence?"

"No. I went to school with him. He was top of our class. Smart. Funny. Didn't let his popularity go to his head much. Went to Williams College and then came back home to teach. He was a good guy once. But you know how the Troubles can change people."

"Yeah." She'd seen it again and again, how tragedy and desperation could strip away humanity when inhuman abilities were introduced. But she'd also seen people fight it – a girl who refused her thirst for human blood, a man who gave his life to save the world from a time loop.

"He's dangerous, Audrey. He thinks he's on a Crusade, and he doesn't care who gets hurt. He turned Nathan into the town's scapegoat. It was ugly. This is a bad idea."

"I have to do this. For Nathan. And for me. And for this whole town. I was going to leave, you know that. I went into the damn Barn to fix all this. The fact that Bernie lost his family and became a killer is my fault."

"Letting him kill you won't fix this."

"Getting him to not kill me just might. Just get me the meeting, okay? Sometime today if you can."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks."

She'd never had much trouble putting herself in danger before. It was part of being an agent. Part of being a cop. Part of trying to get to the bottom of whatever was happening in this crazy town. But she wasn't used to having anything to lose.

For the first time she had someone to live for who wasn't herself. Nathan needed her and she needed him. Keeping two people safe was a lot more challenging than keeping one person safe.

She couldn't let that paralyze her. She was tough, dammit, and this was too important to screw up.

She grabbed her keys and headed to the bed and breakfast.

Duke had given her James's room number after he'd helped him settle in. It was just a few rooms down from where she had stayed what seemed like a lifetime ago. The Gull had been comfortable, cozy, a space that was hers where she could put down roots. The b&b had just been a place to sleep and store her clothes.

She knocked, unable to fight the impulse to case the area for anyone suspicious. Apparently Nathan's paranoia was catching. She hated the way she felt exposed in broad daylight in one of the quietest parts of town.

Was this how Duke felt, searching for tattooed men everywhere? The thought made her smile, and James chose that moment to open the door.

"Luc—" James stopped his greeting mid-word, looking abashed. "Sorry. Habit. You don't even look that much like her."

"You're the only one who's ever said that." It was reassuring in a way that made no sense. She still couldn't decide if she was jealous of her former selves for the lives they'd led and the time they'd spent with Nathan and James. It all gave her a headache even when it didn't make her nose bleed. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah." He stepped aside and she followed him. His room was arranged the same as hers had been, and just as bare of anything personal. All the feelings she'd had when she looked at the photo of Sarah and her baby came surging back as he offered her a chair by the window. She wasn't used to the instantaneous maternal affection, which was both soft and fierce simultaneously. Most people had months to get used to the idea of having a child. She'd acquired an adult son without any of that buildup, and she'd missed every formative experience of his life – yet as he scrutinized her now with a look that was a perfect mixture of her and Nathan she knew she now had two extra people to live for.

"I've been working on rewriting the journal, but I'm not finished yet."

She shook her head slightly, trying to clear her thoughts and give him her full attention. "Oh. Thanks. That's not why I'm here though."

"Then why?"

She hated how skeptical he was in her presence. Audrey Parker knew all about people who turned out not to be what they seemed. Eighteen years of foster care had taught her that too good to be true always was – but it had taken plenty of mirages gone bad to make the lesson stick. Her son should never have been in that situation. "Look, I know this is all super awkward. I have no idea how close you and Lucy were. I remember almost nothing about her or Sarah. I don't know what I said or did that made you think I could possibly be willing to kill you to save myself. I don't know if I'll ever get those memories back, and I'm not sure I want them. But Audrey would love to get to know the impossible son she brought into the world. So I was hoping we could start over?"

It was crazy how much she wanted him to agree. It had been easy to put off this conversation when she had Haven's problems and Nathan's nerves to deal with, but sitting in this drab motel room she knew she had another priority to juggle.

"We could try."

She grinned. As if it was contagious, his lips quirked upwards into a smile as well.

"Great! If you're anything like me, you're probably going stir crazy. So maybe we could start with you helping me with something."

"Will it get me out of this room?" he asked eagerly.

She nodded. "How much do you know about the Guard?"

"Lucy was scared of them. And you, Nathan and Crocker were pretty upset they'd taken over the town."

She'd have to find out what Lucy knew – but it was just one of many questions she needed to ask and today probably wasn't the day for that. "Those are the important points. Their leader threatened to kill me because I didn't take the Troubles away, and now Nathan is wigging out. I've got to convince the Guard to give me a reprieve so we can find another way to stop this."

"Nathan's desperate to protect you, and you're going to walk right into the lion's den." Though his words were accusatory, his tone was more curious than anything.

"I'm doing this for him. He's driving himself crazy trying to protect me, but the Guard is too powerful. If they want me dead, it's only a matter of time until they succeed. So I have to convince them it's in their best interest to keep me alive."

"Is it?" She had no idea where his head was at, and it was throwing her off. She was used to telling people what they wanted or needed to hear. Since she couldn't figure that out, there was only the truth.

"I think so. I want to stop the Troubles. I'm not going to kill your father to do it – but there has to be another way, even if I have to magic another damn barn. Sarah was on to something. Lucy might have known. But I need some space and some time to figure it out. If they kill me and I'm the only one who can stop this, then they've just damned themselves for eternity. I don't think they want that."

He was silent for awhile before he finally nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

"I don't want to put you in danger. But I need someone close by – just in case. If this goes bad, someone needs to tell Nathan."

"You want me to tell my father I let you get killed." This time his disapproval was obvious.

"I'm not going to get killed." She really, really wished people would stop bringing that up. "Look, I can't ask Nathan. He can't see this objectively, and he and Bernie have a history. And Duke's terrified of anyone with a Guard tattoo because his babysitter told him once that was the last thing he'd see before he died."

"Weren't you Duke's babysitter?"

She hadn't expected to be derailed mid-rant, and it took a few moments to even comprehend what James had meant.

"His other babysitter. Did Lucy really spend that much time watching Duke?"

"Seemed like it."

"Huh." She really couldn't picture herself watching children when she was trying to solve Haven's mysteries and keep herself from disappearing. "That's weird. Anyway. I need backup. I figured since you used to hang out with Lucy you'd be kind of used to this sort of thing. And because you have my Trouble, you should be relatively safe if anything strange goes down."

"Where are we meeting him?"

She smiled at his implied acceptance. She hoped all the grinning wasn't creepy, but she couldn't seem to help it.

"I've got someone setting that up. We might not know for a few hours."

"Not much to do around here." This bitter tone she understood perfectly. It swirled inside her every time Nathan tried to keep her chained to a desk, even for her own good. There were takeout containers spilling from the trashcan and a tall stack of newspapers on the desk.

"You've been stuck in this room since we got back, haven't you?"

"Pretty much. Nathan suggested I lay low. I am supposed to be dead."

But it was a beautiful day, and Audrey was tired of laying low. "That's it. We're going out."

"Isn't that a bad idea?"

"Probably. But we're going on an extremely risky mission in a few hours anyway so we're already ignoring Nathan's advice. Might as well get some fresh air in the meanwhile. You with me?"

"Absolutely."

She laughed as she gathered up his bedspread. "We may need this."

"We're not supposed to take that out of the room, are we?"

"I wasn't supposed to let it get turned into a cocoon and then have Nathan cut me out of it either, but that happened. Marge'll get over it."

"What?"

"I'll tell you once we get out of here."

They stopped at Haven Joe's Bakery for sandwiches and cupcakes to go. She tried not to meet anyone's eyes but it still felt like everyone was staring. They judged her for being an outsider before. Now she felt like a pariah. Joe practically squeaked when he recognized her, but she paid the bill quickly and hurried back to the car.

"So, we're going to try and stay away from people, okay?" She didn't know who actually knew what and what was just in her head, but it would be safer to work that out after she'd appeased the Guard. She'd contemplated where she could take him, and the first place that came to mind was the beach. There was so much history there – some of it his own – but she kept circling back to that photo that seemed to have started all this. It was probably best not to bring him back to the place where he'd thought she'd killed him.

So she took him up to Tuwiuwok Bluff instead. They spread the bedspread out and had a picnic while they watched the water churning below. "This is one of the first places in Haven I saw this time around," she revealed. She could remember that day so clearly – the maddening, attractive man she'd been paired with and his even more aggravating father, all the bells going off that things didn't quite add up and the single word running through her head to describe the town – quaint. "I was an FBI agent chasing a suspect who escaped from prison and ran back home to Haven – and Nathan was the local cop I got paired with. The man was found dead on the beach, so we came up here to try and figure out why he fell."

"Sounds romantic."

"It really wasn't," she said with a laugh. But it had been more than just an investigation, even then. There had been something about Nathan that had intrigued her. His face hadn't been bad to look at either.

They'd come such a long way.

She told James about the early days of their partnership, before things got dark and complicated. He told her of his simple life back in Colorado. Hiking, skiing, becoming a carpenter like Paul Cogan. He didn't mention Arla much, and even though Audrey wanted him to be honest with her she was grateful, because the loss of Claire and all those other innocents still hurt.

Listening to tales of his childhood was bittersweet as well. She was glad that he'd grown up happy and loved in a place where there were no whispers of dark times full of impossible happenings. But she couldn't help imagining herself and Nathan into all his stories with vivid, heartbreaking clarity.

At some point her distress must have become obvious because he looked at her face and stopped mid-sentence. "This is bothering you. I'm sorry."

"No," she answered automatically, but his immediate skepticism sent her backpedaling. "I mean it is, but it isn't your fault. It's just…" She looked down at the half eaten box of cupcakes and stared at her frosting covered crutch as she tried to gather her thoughts.

"In one of the first cases I worked with your father the harbor master had this baby. And the moment Nathan saw it his whole face lit up. I'd never seen him not be serious but there he was babbling nonsense at this tiny little baby and I couldn't even wrap my mind around it. It was uncomfortably weird. And this woman ended up having three babies in three weeks so Nathan kept running into them. But every time I saw him transform into a pile of goo I couldn't help but think, 'he will make an amazing father.' It just isn't fair that he missed out on that. Because of all the men in the entire world there's no one who deserves to raise their own child more than Nathan Wuornos."

"It's not too late," James said. But he was almost thirty years old – sixty, technically – and even if he and Nathan got close it wouldn't be the same. She tried to figure out how to tell James that when he shook his head with a strange half-smile.

"I don't mean me. You two are still young. Well," he clarified, "you still seem young, anyway. You could have another baby. I wouldn't feel like you were trying to replace me or anything."

She gaped at him, suddenly overwhelmed by the thought of her and Nathan with a baby and a life lived without interruptions so strongly that she couldn't breathe. She had never let herself contemplate this. She hadn't known him well enough during Beattie's baby incident and she hadn't felt any echoing maternal feelings of her own to want to cast herself in a mother role, even with him as the over-doting father. By the time she found out she was James's mother thinking of Nathan at all was painful, and the revelation than Nathan was his father had been overshadowed by her impending departure. She'd given up on the idea of having any sort of normal life the day she found out she was Lucy Ripley – and before that she'd been too busy to realize that she wanted one.

They couldn't bring another child into this crazy world, with enemies lurking around every corner. The future was a luxury they weren't afforded. They couldn't count on nine months, let alone eighteen years.

"We couldn't," she muttered, but she couldn't stop thinking of a tiny little child with his eyes and her blond hair – a color that was hers and not Lucy's or Sarah's – and the way Nathan would look at it, like it was absolutely the most incredible and precious thing in the entire world. And it would be. And God, how she wanted to give that to him.

"If this works, and the Guard leaves you alone, and you put a stop to all this … maybe you can."

She let herself consider that. Growing older with Nathan by her side – not staying the same age while he skipped right to his sixties. A house full of kids. Juggling baseball games and parent teacher conferences and late nights at the station. Going on dates and vacations and doing all the everyday things most people took for granted. Being a family, with no expiration date hanging over their head. Years full of memories that were undoubtedly her own. Having a boring, normal, blissful life.

Even before Haven, Audrey Parker had never expected to have that.

But the thought that maybe, just maybe, she could set some spark ablaze inside her.

It also sent her launching into James's arms. "Thank you," she whispered into his shoulder.

His arms came around her, loose but strong. "Anytime. Mom."

She had to keep hold of him a little bit longer so he wouldn't see her blink tears out of her eyes.

Later when her phone rang part of her resented the interruption, but she felt ready. Today would be the first step toward a future that had eluded her for too long.

"Whatcha got for me?" she asked Dwight.

"He'll see you at four today. At the Haven Public Library."

"Figures. Least the librarian will step in if we get too disruptive," she said lightly.

"The librarian's not going to step in even if he shoots you. He spends most of his time holed up there. He wants you to go in alone, but please tell me you've got backup."

She glanced at James, who was listening avidly to her half of the conversation and not even trying to hide it. "I've got backup."

"Nathan has no idea you're doing this, does he?"

"I won't tell him you set up the meeting."

"That's not what I'm worried about." He did sound worried, but Audrey felt revved and hopeful. She had too much to fight for. There was no way she was giving up this time. "I'm not sure Nathan could handle losing you again."

It hadn't taken thirty-three phone messages to convince her that he couldn't. "I know. That's why I need to do this." They'd spent too long being afraid. It was time for them both to start _living_. "Thanks for getting him to the hospital after I left." She'd never be able to pay him back for that, but she'd have to figure out a way to try.

"Course. He's a good man."

"I know. I'll take care of him."

"Be careful."

"I'll see you later."

And she would. No trigger happy bookworm was going to stop her from going home tonight and telling Nathan exactly how much she'd enjoyed flouting his rules.

She watched her son pack up the remnants of their picnic. "Ready to win us some freedom?"

He offered her a hand to help her rise. "Ready."

* * *

_Let me know what you think!_


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's note: a little late – sorry! Lots going on here. I'd love to hear what you think._

_Nathan/Audrey song for the day: _Downfall_ by Matchbox 20. "Be my savior, and I'll be your downfall…"_

* * *

Audrey was used to sophisticated FBI equipment, but thankfully she'd always been good at improvising. She'd surely be able to find a wire at the Haven PD, but that would be nearly impossible to pull off without running into Nathan. She didn't want to lie to him again, so she settled with buying a prepaid cell phone at the general store, deliberately ignoring the stink-eye the cashier shot her.

She explained the plan to James in the store parking lot, going over the basics of how cell phones worked because she didn't want to be left without backup because her son had only spent five days in the twenty-first century.

She was going to call him on the burner phone as soon as they reached the library, leaving hers on speakerphone in her jacket pocket. She was almost certain Bernie wasn't going to search her, so she left her gun in her holster and tucked a knife in her boot in case he decided he wanted to kidnap her.

"I don't want you to put yourself in danger," she told him for the third time as she pulled into the library lot. "But if it seems like I'm in trouble, I need you to call Nathan with your other phone and tell him what's going on."

"Are you sure you don't want me to go in with you?" he asked as if he hadn't heard her, and she found his willfulness both aggravating and endearing.

"I can't be distracted worrying about you. And he wants me to come alone. I'll be fine." She hoped more than anything that was true.

"Mom?" Her heart flipped when he said it, even though there was still something tentative there, and she was more determined than ever to emerge from the building in front of her unscathed.

"Mmmhmmm?"

"Next time can we just go to a ball game or something?"

She laughed at the thought of that, remembered Seadogs and Cutters and Nathan's glee over some silly game and a town tradition that until that day had nothing supernatural about it, and she agreed and slipped out of the car before the tension could settle back in her stomach.

She'd always liked libraries. Books provided a great escape from her unhappy childhood, and since very few of her foster families had any interest in paying for her hobby the library's collection of free books was like the best friend she never had. In college the library had been a good place to hide when everyone else on campus was partying but she just didn't feel like getting wasted with a bunch of strangers. She'd been to the Haven Library a few times, even gotten a library card after she quit the FBI. It had always been a bright, cheerful place, even if the librarian, Miss Pierce, enforced silence over her domain like a television stereotype.

Today the building seemed cold and eerily deserted. Most patrons were probably still in work or at school – or perhaps they no longer wanted to hang out in the domain of a Troubled psychopath. She was glad there weren't many innocents to get caught up in the crossfire – but she had hoped meeting somewhere public would provide some degree of protection. Not that that would necessarily stop a man who was willing to murder someone in broad daylight in front of two police officers.

Miss Pierce glared at her when she entered and Audrey's greeting died in her throat. Nodding instead, she walked through the racks of books to the table hidden among the classics.

Bernie was already there, relaxed like a king on his throne with three piles of books in front of him. _Animal Farm_ and _Peter Pan_ caught her eye but she didn't take the time to read the other titles.

"If it isn't Haven's own Hester Prynne," he crowed, his tone brimming with a joviality she didn't trust for a second.

Her mind processed the reference and searched for one to toss back as she slid into the chair across from him. "And who are you supposed to be? Prospero?"

He chuckled. "Ah, very good. Though I prefer Gandalf."

"Seriously?" she scoffed, unable to help it. "Well, at least you didn't say Dumbledore."

"Now that's a thought. I was a teacher, you know."

"So I've heard," she said dryly.

"I was surprised when Mr. Hendrickson told me you wanted to meet. Your execution hasn't even been scheduled yet. Anxious to push up the date?"

His tone was light and conversational, reminding Audrey that there was something unhinged lurking in this man. She'd seen him murder someone in cold blood, and now he was discussing literature and her death as if they were having a lively discussion about the weather.

"I was hoping to postpone it, actually."

He frowned and abandoned his friendly affectation. "You waste what little time you have left. I may have Prospero's power, but I lack his mercy."

"You'd make a pretty poor Gandalf then. But it isn't your mercy I'm counting on. It's that scholarly brain of yours."

He picked up one of the books from the pile, running his fingers along the edges. She wanted to call his bluff and tell him what he read wouldn't have an effect on her, but that wasn't true enough. She could still be hurt through the others in town. "The scholar in me has spent a lot of time contemplating the best way to kill you. Literature is rich with material. So many tragic deaths … and many that were well deserved. Sweet Tess, executed for her crime of passion. Mary in _Native Son_, now that's a doosey. Smothered and burned in a furnace. Or how about _Romeo and Juliet_? That seems fitting. But which of you to kill? That police chief of yours might go mad from grief if he lost you again … but how would you react if you lost him, I wonder?"

The thought of that had her itching to reach for her gun and show this cocky bastard that Nathan was under her protection now. But he was obviously baiting her, which meant he wanted her to get angry. Which meant that she needed to stay calm and keep her wits about her. But God…

She breathed deeply and said nothing.

"He thinks himself invincible, just because he can't feel pain. But he can hurt – my boys have seen to that. Your abandonment wounded him terribly. I wonder how much more it would take to make him crack. I'd like to see that. I suppose the question is whether I should keep you alive to see that."

"Enough!" She had to close her eyes against the onslaught of images and the surge of hatred she felt toward this man for taking her failure out on Nathan. She willed James to stay put because she knew if anyone get set off now it would get nasty in the crossfire. "I get it. You'll enjoy killing me. But is revenge worth dooming everyone in this town and all their descendents to living with the Troubles forever?"

He didn't falter. "That assumes you need to be alive to end the Troubles. There are many who believe the opposite – that if you die, the Troubles die with you. They've been anxious to test that theory for a very long time."

"Maybe so. But if you're wrong, that's something you can't take back. Is it worth the risk?" This wasn't entirely true, but she hoped the Guard didn't know about Noelle and Moira. Or if they did, she hoped she was right about all this. She had no proof that her death wasn't the answer.

His grip on the book tightened and his fingers stopped wandering. "So you want us to let you go unpunished because there's a chance that the repercussions of your death would be damning? We're already damned. We live with our curses every day because of your actions."

She knew how dangerous he was when agitated, so she tried to ignore the way her heart was pounding in her chest. "We have the same goal here – to end the Troubles," she placated. "I just need you to stop getting in my way."

"You had your chance to end the Troubles," he snapped. "You chose lust."

He'd obviously spent far too long reading _The Scarlett Letter_ and reframing it as the story of her life.

"I went into the Barn. I was going to leave and take the Troubles away. Something went wrong."

"Such a cold woman to blame your lover for what you've caused."

She wondered how many times this man had said such things to Nathan's face; if maybe that's why he'd come to believe it. "This wasn't Nathan's fault. I knew he wanted to keep me here, so I made arrangements so he couldn't interfere. Then your girl Jordan showed up and started shooting him and it all went to hell."

"That's not the story I heard."

"Well, all your witnesses are dead and I honestly don't care what they had to say. The point is I want to end the Troubles."

"Then call the Barn back. If the Troubles go, you and I no longer have a problem. I'll leave that police chief of yours alone."

"The Barn only takes the Troubles away for twenty seven years. There's another way to stop them for good."

He hesitated, straightening almost imperceptibly, and she could see how appealing he found that possibility. When he spoke his words seemed to rush over each other. "Then you best do it before my patience wears thin."

"I need some time." She needed to sell this point more than any other, so she looked him in the eyes, jaw set, trying to exude confidence when her nerves were so jittery she wasn't sure her skin could contain them.

But she'd never been a great actress. "You don't know what it is," he deduced.

She could already see his interest waning, the immediacy of revenge a powerful counteracting force to any rational reason to pardon her. "No one is exactly forthcoming in this town. But my last two selves were working it out. I just need to dig a little deeper."

She expected him to get angry at her for trying to hoodwink him. But he cocked his head slightly with something that seemed like curiosity. "What makes you think you'll like what you'll find? There's no forgiveness for what you've done."

"I told you, I didn't mean to leave without taking the Troubles with me."

"That isn't what I meant." They stared at each other, and she didn't like the look of dawning realization on his face which manifested as glee while she was left confused and at an impasse. "You don't know."

"Know what?"

He was grinning at her now, and it sent a shiver down her spine. She was losing her grasp on the situation, fast. "You say you want to stop the Troubles, but you don't even know why they started."

The fact that anyone else did was flooring. Somehow that question had never occurred to her. And no one, not Nathan or Duke or Claire or the Teagues, had ever mentioned that this was apparently common knowledge.

"Care to enlighten me?"

"Not particularly."

Suddenly the room seemed small around her, the bookshelves too close, the air heavy and oppressive. This was taking too long. She wanted to get out. Take James for ice cream, go visit Nathan at the station. Whatever Bernie knew she'd need to find out, but something inside her warned she wasn't going to like it. He was too fond of irony and metaphor and literary devices that weren't going to side with her in this story.

"Look, I don't know much about who I was before I came to Haven as Audrey Parker, but what I do know is I want to help these people. And I did, before I went away. There are lots of people still alive in this town because I helped them. And there are plenty of Troubled people I could have sent to jail for what they'd done, but I didn't, because I understood that they had no control over their afflictions. Like you. I figure you probably weren't a bad guy, once upon a time. But a little grief gave you magical powers and a major God complex, and I really don't think it's okay for you to murder whoever you want."

"What are you going to do about it? Throw me in jail? I need only speak the words and an angel will rescue me from my cell."

She knew firsthand how dangerous a Bible could be in his family's hands. "I'm not going to do anything about it. For now. But you're going to let me walk out of here with a promise that the Guard's not going to come after me."

He laughed, but the sound had none of his earlier warmth. "You've got guts, Hester, I'll give you that. But I still don't see why I should give you a free pass to chase a solution that may not even exist."

"Leave me alone for six months. If I haven't stopped the Troubles by then we can renegotiate."

"And what if I'm not in a negotiating mood?"

She handed him the next book on the pile, and almost faltered when she saw it was _The Green Mile_. Of course. "Then you can schedule that execution."

She held her breath as he considered, wishing she had some kind of Trouble that could help her here, like Chris's likability or Ginger's persuasiveness. She needed him to agree to this, needed it so fiercely she could feel the blood rushing in her veins, all the repercussions of her failure waiting just beyond her to swallow her up. If this failed, she and Nathan were both lost.

"You've got nothing to lose here. Either I stop the Troubles for good, and you can go back to being a normal, law-abiding citizen for the rest of your life, or I fail and you just have to wait six months before you kill me. If you kill me now and the Troubles stay you'll always be left wondering if you could have been the hero and you chose to be the villain."

"What are your terms?"

Relief washed over her. "The Guard doesn't touch me, or Nathan, or Duke Crocker. Or the Colorado kid. For six months."

"Why the Colorado kid?"

"Doesn't matter why. Those are the terms."

"And what if I refuse to spare the others? Or what if something happens to your precious Chief? Will you end your futile quest to stop the Troubles?"

The edgy cheek was back in his voice, but she was having none of it. "Oh, I'll end the Troubles all right. But if you hurt Nathan I'll end you too."

She had shocked him, she could tell, but he recovered quickly. "I don't believe you would."

"You should. I killed Reverend Driscoll because he was going to murder a Troubled girl – and I didn't even know her. Don't mess with my friends."

This time his laugh was so warm and loud and unexpected that her first irrational thought was to warn him that Miss Pierce was going to scold him. Instead she crossed her arms and scowled, which only made him laugh harder.

"You're as crazy as the rest of us. If you weren't the cause of all this you'd make a fine addition to the Guard."

"No thank you. I've got to look out for the entire town, not just those who are afflicted. Do we have a deal?"

"It seems that we do. Six months. But not a day more." He held out a hand and she took it, feeling a bit like she was making a deal with the Devil. Was this how Nathan had felt when he'd illegal arranged that transport? Except she wasn't giving the Guard anything, just her word that she'd end the Troubles, which was her intention anyway. Whatever it took. Well, almost whatever it took. She had to believe that elusive third option existed, even if Howard had never mentioned it.

"Deal."

And even as the adrenaline began to fade and an overwhelming desire to turn and walk out of there as fast as she could washed over her she knew she couldn't leave just yet. She dropped his hand but not his gaze.

"At the bank you said you couldn't kill me yet because you wanted me to understand what I'd done. I want you to tell me."

"Why?"

"Because even if I didn't mean it to be, this is my fault. I'm not going to run from the consequences."

Just as she'd hoped, she saw approval flicker across his face. She wasn't sure why that was important – the man was a maniac – but she needed him to understand how serious she took this, so he could impress it on his followers. She needed to be able to trust his word.

So she listened for nearly an hour as he recounted the horrors of the years she'd missed, starting with the loss of his family. He spoke in vivid, disturbing detail, his literary training suffusing the truth, which was horrid enough, with imagery and metaphors that painted pictures in her mind she was afraid she'd never be able to delete. Much of what he said seemed to come from the point of view of his students and the ways their families had come apart, casting the whole thing in a tragic light of innocence cruelly lost. Those who suffered most were not those who died but those who were left behind, and that made her think of Nathan so strongly that she finally couldn't take it anymore. Muttering an excuse, she rose from her chair and fled.

She tried not to look at anything, needing to get out of there, but it was impossible to miss Dwight sitting at one of the tables, a magazine open in front of him and completely ignored. She didn't stop to acknowledge him.

James looked pale and tense, but he offered her a halfhearted smile as she opened the car door and slid inside. She pressed the power locks immediately, taking some comfort in their definitive click, and then she pulled her cell phone from her pocket, hit end and tossed it on the console between them. She leaned her head against the steering wheel, letting the feel of the cool leather ground her in the immediacy of her surroundings and help her accept that it was over and she was safe. Safe, not just for now, but for six months. This whole endeavor may have been foolish, but it had paid off.

"So I guess that went all right," she finally said, because it was too silent in the car.

"I figured out something else you and Lucy have in common, besides the cupcakes." Audrey sat up and turned to look at James. He waited to have her attention before he continued. "You're both the bravest person I've ever met."

He was so earnest it made her uncomfortable. "We might just be the most reckless people you've ever met. But thank you."

"Why didn't you go after he agreed to leave you alone?"

She'd honestly forgotten, as Bernie told his story, that James could hear it too. "Because everything that happened while I was gone is my fault. Nathan had to live through that. Least I can do is understand."

"Not many people would take on that responsibility."

"Well, I think we've firmly established that I'm not normal. Let's get out of here."

"Nathan's been calling." He held up his real cell phone, which Duke had obviously picked out. It was so complicated even she'd had a little trouble with it. Mobile technology seemed to have accelerated while she was gone.

"Shit." She grabbed her own phone. A list of text messages appeared, growing increasingly frantic, and she had a couple of missed voicemails as well.

"_Relax. James & i r on the way to the Gull_," she texted, knowing he'd rather hear her voice but she wasn't ready to face that quite yet. "He's going to be mad."

"Won't he be glad you don't have death threats hanging over your head anymore?"

"Once he calms down, hopefully. But first all he's going to see is that I put myself in danger."

It would be okay though, because they had six months. Her FBI training was kicking in and she was starting to compartmentalize everything she'd heard, just like details of a disturbing case. Someone couldn't chase serial killers and dwell constantly on the evidence without going mad if they couldn't manage some emotional distance. She need to know what had happened in her absence, but it wouldn't do anyone any good – included all the Troubled residents of Haven – if she couldn't move past that.

She threw the car into drive and headed toward The Grey Gull.

"We're being followed," James said after a few minutes, voice sharp with unease. "And this man looks gigantic."

Audrey looked closely in her rearview mirror, saw a familiar face, and smiled. "That's Dwight. He's the one who got me the meeting. He was in the library, hanging around in case I needed more backup."

"We can trust him?"

"Absolutely. He's your father's cleaner. Helps fix things up after any incidents with the Troubled. He used to work for your grandfather when he was the Chief."

"Seems like more useful backup that I was."

"He's a bullet magnet. Literally. Not actually the best guy to bring to a tense situation, despite his size. He's a good guy though. Looked after you father while we were all gone."

They were only a few minutes from the Gull. Just as she expected, Nathan's truck was in the parking lot. When she saw it sitting there in all its bright, familiar glory the truth of what she'd accomplished finally began to sink in. She had won them all a reprieve. And like a pardoned criminal going blinking into the sun for the first time in years, suddenly the world seemed a whole lot brighter.

Dwight parked beside her and was out of his car quicker than she was.

"You're not exactly inconspicuous," she said, but she was still pleased that he'd bothered to keep an eye on her.

"You were in there a long time," he answered, and she could see the worry lines etched on his face and realized he hadn't been close enough to hear anything. He just knew she'd walked out of there seemingly unscathed.

"Took some convincing. But he's going to leave me alone for six months. So everyone can just calm down."

His relief was palpable, and she wanted to laugh hysterically like Bernie had. "That was a hell of a risk."

She settled for a wide grin. "Paid off though."

He shook his head disapprovingly, but his lips twitched into a smile. "Welcome back, Audrey."

"It's really good to see you, Dwight." She reached out to grasp one of his massive arms. "And thanks again for taking care of Nathan. I don't know how to pay you back for that."

"Maybe try putting me in fewer situations where I have to spend hours worrying I'd gotten his girl killed."

She didn't belong to anyone, but she found she didn't actually mind being referred to as Nathan's girl. She was pretty sure he wouldn't fight her claim over him.

She was also pretty sure this wasn't the last time she'd do something reckless. But the next time she planned something dangerous she'd leave Dwight out of it.

"I'll try to be careful," she offered, not promising anything.

She was thinking about introducing James when a sharp crack captured her attention. Nathan had opened the door to the restaurant so forcefully it had slammed against the side of the building. Now he was storming toward her, Duke a few paces behind.

"Where the hell have you been?" His voice shook. While most people would have assumed it was rage, Audrey knew it was fear that had him so worked up. She'd gotten far too personal a glimpse of what losing her did to him, so she resolved to give him some leeway when normally she would have found his behavior unacceptable.

"A little help here?" she tossed to Duke coyly, counting on the way he could always bring some levity to a situation.

But he didn't even smile at her. "You're on your own this time, sweetheart. I'm all for sneaking out but the next time you want to play hooky don't use my restaurant as an alibi. I don't appreciate him knocking down my door expecting me to know where you are."

She hadn't thought about that. "Didn't expect to be gone so long," she said, contrite.

"What were you doing?" Nathan demanded.

"It's okay, Nathan. I'm okay."

"It's not okay. It isn't safe. You weren't where you were supposed to be, and neither you or James would pick up your phones. I thought—" He left his sentence hanging, but she knew how to finish it.

She closed the last few steps between them and grabbed his face with both hands, ignoring the way it made him shudder. His eyes were red as if maybe he'd been crying, and she was reminded of why she'd had to confront Bernie today. Because she couldn't let him keep doing this to himself. He was far too anguished over the fact she hadn't answered her phone for less than two hours.

Her thumbs slid across his cheeks and down his jaw. He closed his eyes and stilled.

"I'm fine. James is fine. And you don't have to worry. The Guard's not going to bother us anymore."

His eyes snapped open, and they were still wild, though he'd stopped shouting. "What have you done?"

"I talked to Bernie. He's going to leave us alone. You, me, James and Duke."

The strangled cry he made sounded almost like a death rattle. His hands clamped like vices on her shoulders, and she thought for a moment that he might shake her.

Instead he stared at her with a look of such devastated terror that she almost regretted what she'd done, even though she knew the outcome. "What did you promise him?" he rasped.

"Nothing," she answered instinctively.

"I know that man. He blames us for all of this. He wouldn't have let you walk away without demanding some price. What is it?"

"I told him I'm trying to find another way to end the Troubles. He gave me six months to figure it out."

"And what if you can't figure it out in six months?"

She hated to tell him the bad news when he was taking the good news so poorly. But she couldn't lie to him about this. "Then he's probably going to kill me."

She'd never heard him swear so strongly. The word seemed even more profane coming from his mouth. "How could you go and barter with your life? You heard him say he was going to kill you. He meant it! What the hell were you doing talking to him without backup?"

She was finding it harder and harder to keep her aggravation at bay. "That's kind of how this works, remember? I find out what makes the Troubled tick, and then I talk them down. It's never about what they can do – it's about why. Bernie was pissed the Troubles didn't go away. So I made him see he needs to get out of the way of me fixing that. And I had backup. James was ready to call you if anything went wrong."

"So you dragged our son along to visit a psychopath? Why not get him killed too?"

Everything started happening at once. Suddenly James was at her side, indignant. "I'm not a child. You don't get to make choices for me!" But as she watched the two men square off she could hear Duke saying, "Didn't Nathan tell you about that, Sasquatch?" and out of the corner of her eye she could see Dwight's flabbergasted expression.

She'd honestly forgotten they weren't alone. This was far too personal an argument to have in front of every other friend she had.

"We need to take this inside," she hissed. "If you'll excuse us," she called to everyone else.

Nathan tried to protest, but she grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the entrance to the Gull, figuring it was closer than her apartment.

As soon as the door was shut he collapsed against the doorframe, as if all the fight had been drained from him.

"You lied to me."

His sense of betrayal wounded her more deeply than his anger, because in this he wasn't at all unjustified.

"If I'd told you the truth, would you have tried to stop me?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation.

"That's why I didn't. If I'm gonna be honest, then you need to trust me." She knew how to reinforce that point, but she fought her instinct to reach out to him. He needed to accept this because it was true, without her touch fogging up his reasoning.

He was deliberately looking anywhere but at her, and now she wanted to shake him a little bit.

The impulse fled as soon as she heard his next words. "You gave up," he said on the back of a ragged exhale. "You never give up on anyone, but you gave up on yourself."

She wished she could deny that, but found that she couldn't. "I did," she admitted. "But it's different this time. You kissed some sense into me." She hoped in vain that it would get some sort of rise out of him.

"I cannot handle losing you again." It had the gravity of absolute truth, but his admission was superfluous. _She knew_.

"That's why I did this."

He looked at her then, and his eyes were blazing. His whole being was radiating such an intense ferocity at the thought of her in danger on his account that she thought if Bernie saw him now he'd never dare to threaten her again. "Dammit, Audrey. The last thing I want is for you to put yourself in danger for me!"

But she knew a thing or two about protective ferocity, and she felt her own frustrations roaring to the surface.

"And the last thing I want is to watch you worry yourself to death over me! Every time we leave your house it's like you're just waiting for me to disappear again. Sometimes I'm afraid it's going to literally pull you apart like your father."

"That's not how it works—" he protested.

"I know. But I can't stand to see you so anxious. And I can't live under house arrest. I'm a grown woman, and I'm used to being on my own. There are going to be times you don't know where I am. You have to be okay with that. And if we don't let James out of that motel room he'd going to book a flight back to Colorado and never look back."

He had the grace to look abashed, and she could see that she was getting through. She softened her tone and took a few steps toward him, but she kept herself just out of reach.

"I spent so much time before the Hunter being afraid of what was going to happen. I don't want to live that way anymore. This is our second chance to have something beautiful, and I want to take advantage of that. I don't want to hide, even if it's with you. So I did what I had to do to make that possible. I wasn't being reckless on your account. I did this for _us_. And it worked. We're safe. I need you to accept that."

"For six months."

"That's almost as long as I was here the first time. And it's far better than the Guard deciding they want to knock me off next week."

"What happens if we can't solve this in six months?"

She met his eyes. "Then we figure out another plan. But no matter what happens, we have these six months to spend together."

He nodded, and she decided that was all the confirmation she needed that he understood. She closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his waist. He responded instantly, wrapping his arms around her and dropping his face to her shoulder. She could feel him trembling against her, and she rubbed a hand across his back and let the tension bleed out of him.

"I'm sorry for worrying you," she apologized.

He lifted his head. "I may have overreacted," he said sheepishly. "But the thought of you in danger makes me crazy."

"Hadn't noticed," she cracked. He seemed lighter, just for a second, but she wanted him lighter all the time. She reached up and ran a hand through his hair so she could watch the way his eyes widened and his breath caught when she scraped her nails across his scalp.

"I don't want someone to protect me. I want someone to be there beside me. To be my partner, and more than my partner. I'd much rather have gone to see Bernie with you – but good police work requires emotional detachment. You need to be capable of that or our relationship is going to be an obstacle in any case we work together."

"You telling me to calm the hell down, Parker?" His words loosened something in her chest.

"Pretty much. Can you do that?"

"Guess I have to. Unless you want to be partnered with Stan."

She laughed, encouraged by his humor. "Please, no. I think he's annoyed that I still don't know what his name is half the time."

"It's not even that hard."

"You work with a lot of people, okay?"

He chuckled, and she was glad he found amusement in her petulance.

When he calmed down she rested both hands on his chest and looked up at him. "Look, I love you, and I'm going to do everything in my power to stay here with you this time around. I need you to believe that, whatever we face. Can you do that?"

He'd started grinning like a fool the moment she told him she loved him, and she was a little afraid he'd missed the rest of her message when his hands came up to cover hers. He tugged one of them up to his mouth and brushed a kiss against her knuckles that made her knees weak.

"Yeah. Long as you can accept that I love you too much not to try and protect you. I am always going to step in front of bullets for you. I can't help it. I don't want to help it. But I'll try not to freak out every time you don't pick up your phone."

It was really all the compromise she could ask for. She'd get in front of any bullet meant for him. Maybe they'd both push each other out of the way and end up unscathed.

"That's a start, then." With the next six months wide open before them, she realized it really, truly was.

* * *

_I'd love to hear what you think!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Inspiration for this chapter: "Let Me Go" by 3 Doors Down. "__You love me but you don't know who I am. I'm torn between this life I lead and where I stand…" Great song with major Audrey identity crisis vibes._

_That being said, enjoy! And thanks so much for all the feedback love last chapter._

* * *

After they let everyone else into the _Gull_ and Audrey told them about her harrowing day, Duke pulled a bottle of whiskey from under the bar and poured a round of shots.

"To Audrey's nerves of steel. May they protect us from tattooed men," he declared before they all tossed them back.

The toast felt too flippant, but Nathan wasn't going to refuse the alcohol when his nerves were still shot after two hours of picturing every revolting way the Guard could have hurt Audrey while she was missing. But she was safe and whole beside him, with her arm casually draped over his own to remind him of that fact, and the longer they sat there, the more that seemed to sink in.

"I can put some burgers on the grill," Duke offered as it got late, but Audrey shook her head and stood before anyone else could respond. "We've got something to do."

Duke leered and James blushed, but Nathan had spent nearly a week learning Audrey's signals and she didn't seem to have anything sexy on her mind.

She barely reacted to Duke's innuendo, obviously distracted. As Nathan followed her out of the restaurant he worried there was something she'd been afraid to tell him in front of the others.

"What's going on?" He tried not to sound as panicked as he felt.

"Do you know how the Troubles started?" Audrey asked, unusually shy.

"No."

"So this isn't something else that everyone in town knows but conveniently forgot to mention to me?" It sounded like an accusation, and he wasn't used to hearing her so bitter.

"Everyone in town's too busy denying the Troubles exist to talk about why they started. What's this about?"

"Bernie expected me to know how the Troubles started – like it was common knowledge. He said it was my fault. Not just the Barn going wrong this time. The whole thing."

The notion was so absurd he chuckled. "Shouldn't we know better than to believe anything the Guard says? I've never heard any story. But I'm sure there're two people who have a few theories."

She pushed her hair behind her ear and offered him a shaky smile. "Do you think they're still at the _Herald_?"

"Working on the evening edition, I'm sure."

In a town this size it was unnecessary for newspaper men to work this late, but Nathan couldn't remember a time Vince and Dave hadn't. He supposed it gave them the freedom to roam the town and butt into everyone's business during normal office hours.

The brothers were arguing when Audrey and Nathan arrived, but they stopped with the ringing of the doorbell.

"Audrey," Dave said warmly.

There was something cold in Vince's voice when he said Nathan's name.

"What brings you both here so late this evening?" Dave asked.

"I've got another question for you," Audrey said.

"We'll be glad to help as long as you have an answer for us. Though hopefully it will be longer than one word this time." For some reason Vince glared at Nathan as he said it, leaving Nathan puzzled. He certainly wasn't the one who'd decided to barter information about his son's parentage to the town gossips.

"A huh," Audrey said noncommittally. She'd stayed distracted the whole ride over, and Nathan was beginning to realize how much Bernie must have gotten to her. He wished he could punch the bastard, but it was probably not worth risking their fragile truce. "How did the Troubles start?"

"Now there's a good question. Probably would have answered that one for free," Dave crowed.

"Still can," Audrey countered.

"That's not how this works, missy."

Nathan had little patience for these petty games of give and take. He'd been amused at first by Audrey's exasperation at the close mouthed residents of Haven – but they were on a deadline now and he'd be damned if she couldn't be saved because no one in town was willing to share information. "Just answer the question."

Vince straightened, his voice taking on a strange gravity, as if he found his own story fascinating. "The Troubles go back nearly to Haven's founding in the early sixteen hundreds. The historical record's a bit spotty that far back. But there is a story. An English girl was sold as an indentured servant to the colonies to pay off her father's debts. She became a maid in the mayor's household, and she fell in love with the town blacksmith. But the blacksmith was betrothed to the mayor's daughter, so he rejected her advances. She was so heartbroken she cursed him and the entire town."

"How?" Audrey demanded.

Vince leaned toward her. "She was a witch, of course."

"A witch?" Nathan echoed skeptically.

"Indeed. This is New England. There was quite a lot of that back then."

"There was a lot of hysteria," Nathan replied.

"Told you witches were real," Audrey teased, and Nathan thought of Jess Minion and taxidermy come to life and how he really didn't mind being wrong when she was grinning at him like that.

"They are," Vince continued. "It was a terrible curse, crafted to choose the specific punishment for each individual that would cause them the most pain. The town nearly destroyed itself before the mayor's daughter found a way to stop it."

"How?"

"Turning to witchcraft herself, she lured the servant into her father's barn and cast a spell to trap her there. While she was confined her magic no longer worked, and everyone she cursed returned to normal. But the mayor's daughter was only strong enough to hold her for twenty-seven years. After that she emerged from the barn, not having aged a day, and the curses returned. Children born since her imprisonment found they had the same affliction as one of their parents. It was months until the mayor's daughter could trap her again. This time she set an extra spell on the Barn, that even though it would release the witch every twenty-seven years, it would draw her back after its powers had recharged."

"What happened to the mayor's daughter?" Nathan asked.

"That was almost four hundred years ago," Vince said. "She died."

"So I'm the witch," Audrey said. "I'm not the one who saves the town. I'm the one who cursed it."

"No," Nathan answered, responding more to the devastation in Audrey's voice than the logic in her argument. Because surely she was the solution here, not the problem. That was the only option that made sense.

"Well, yes," Dave admitted, not meeting her eyes. "If the story is to be believed."

"What about the memory loss? The different identities? Officer Howard? How do all those fit in?" Nathan demanded.

"We don't know. None of that is mentioned. It may be part of the enchantment to draw her back into the Barn."

He waited for Audrey to punch more holes in their logic, but he kept waiting. When he turned to her she was frozen, her features a statue of shock or grief or maybe both at once.

He'd told her about her memory blackouts, and there was something about the glassiness of her eyes that terrified him. He didn't want her to remember this. "Parker," he called, crossing to her and grabbing her hands, which trembled at her sides. They felt like ice and he yelped; he hadn't felt anything that cold in years.

She didn't react, even when he tried to rub some warmth back in them. "Come on Parker, come back to me." He dropped one of her hands to snap his fingers in front of her face. She blinked and seemed to rouse herself.

"I'm right here," she slurred, but he was hardly convinced she was fine. He grabbed her other hand again, and she stared down at their pile of fingers.

"Let's get you home."

"She owes us an answer," Vince demanded. All the warmth that had been in his voice while telling the story was gone. He was no longer a grandfather figure, but a man capable of leading a bloodthirsty underground organization. "That's the deal. We each get a question."

"Can't you see she's in no state to answer you?" He had to get her away from here and find out what was going on in that head of hers, because surely this was a lie and he couldn't bear the thought that she believed it.

"But you can, can't you?" Dave interjected.

He'd rather have carried her out of there, bargain be damned, but he knew she'd be angry with him when she came back to her senses. And with the way Vince was glaring, perhaps getting through him wouldn't be as easy as it seemed.

"What's the question?" he growled.

"How are you the father of Sarah's child?"

There had been a day, just a few years ago, when the Teague brothers had come into his office and chided him for waiting too long to tell Audrey how he felt. He didn't understand why the thought of him and Sarah together made them so venomous now.

"A little help?" he whispered to Audrey but she just looked at him like she wanted to cry and he knew he was on his own for this one.

"Duke got sent back to 1955 by Stuart Mosley. He sent me and Audrey a letter. I went to investigate. Got sent back too. I met Sarah the day she came to town." He wanted to rub a hand across the back of his neck but he wasn't willing to let go of Audrey.

"And," Vince demanded.

Nathan wanted to squirm like a scolded child under his glare. This would have been uncomfortable even if Audrey was doing the talking, but damn. "I think you can figure out the rest."

"You took advantage of a girl just because she looked like someone you knew, and then you left her pregnant and alone to deal with your irresponsibility."

"I didn't take advantage of her!" It had almost been like she'd taken advantage of him, not that he'd minded one bit or put up much of a fight. But he'd tried to keep his distance and she'd kept reeling him in, as if this stranger was familiar even though she had none of the memories they shared.

He certainly couldn't tell the Teagues that.

"Did you have any intention of staying with her?"

Truth was he had considered it when he was buried inside her, his name on her lips, because for one glorious moment his life had been simple. He had wanted to stay there in the past, and love her, and forget all the mistakes they'd make in another fifty years. But that had been cowardly and shameful and even if it wouldn't have collapsed history he loved Audrey too much to abandon her, even to another version of herself.

He couldn't tell the Teagues that either.

"Duke and I had to go back. We were changing history." A memory sparked, and he thought he found a way out of the situation. "Before I was sent back Duke changed something, and the two of you killed each other. Care to explain that?"

"You only get one question today," Vince snapped, but Dave was shaken, and Nathan had had about enough of this.

"It's not Nathan's fault." All eyes turned to Audrey, who seemed to have roused a little. "She always loved him. Couldn't resist."

He didn't know how she knew that. Maybe she didn't know it at all, and was only trying to protect him.

"We need to get you home."

She nodded, and that was all the permission he needed. He linked their hands and pulled her out of the _Herald_ without even a goodbye.

* * *

She didn't talk on the ride back to his house, and he didn't push it. She still seemed slightly catatonic, and his only relief was she hadn't started bleeding.

"I'm not sure how I'm going to look at Vince and Dave again after that," he joked as he flicked on the lights in his living room, wishing she would smile and they'd both laugh at his awkwardness and move on to lighter topics.

"How can you even look at me? I did this to you." She grabbed a book from a nearby table, but he was so distracted by her anguish he didn't realized she'd thrown it at him until he heard it hit the floor after reflecting off his chest.

"No." He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his cheek. It was still cold and clammy, but as the feel of it seeped into his skin he settled her other hand over his heart. He could feel it beating wildly under her palm. "This is what you do to me."

She froze like he'd caught her in a floodlight, and he could see the tears reflected in her eyes that she wouldn't let fall. He stared back, trying to will her to believe him, but he had no such power. He dropped his hands and hers soon followed. She stepped back and wrapped her arms around herself.

"Maybe you can only feel me because I'm the one who cursed you," she whispered, staring at the floor.

"Where did you get that logic, Harry Potter?"

His quip got her to look at him, but she didn't smile. "Mechanics don't just fix cars they broke themselves. Doctors don't only heal injuries they caused. There's no correlation."

"Dave and Vince think there is."

"That's a story from hundreds of years ago. We seek to explain the unexplainable. That doesn't make it true."

"But the Troubles are real. And every twenty-seven years I go into that barn. I told Howard it felt like I was being punished, and he didn't deny it. It fits."

"It doesn't fit! You wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't I? How would we know that? We don't know who I was ninety years ago, let alone four-hundred."

She looked so miserable he couldn't stand it. He'd watched her mope around for weeks without doing anything about it when he was with Jordan and he'd sworn to himself that if he ever got her back he'd never let her suffer alone again.

"I know you. Audrey Parker."

"Audrey Parker's a brunette that lives in Boston. I have her memories but that's not who I am. Just because she wouldn't doesn't mean that I—"

Her voice cracked and she stopped, and as she deliberately looked away from him he understood.

"There were differences between you. You had similar mannerisms, could finish each other's sentences, but you weren't the same. You have more compassion. You're nicer to Duke. You like the crazy, and you want to help the Troubled, no matter what. She was scared off because she thought she saw a clown. Even if you had been affected by Jackie you wouldn't have let that stop you." He reached out and laid a hand on her cheek; God knew it helped to steady him when she did it. "I didn't love her."

She didn't shrug him off, but it didn't seem to convince her. "It's guilt. That's why I care so much. Because I caused this."

"If you really caused this you wouldn't feel guilty. You'd be bitter that you're still paying for it."

"That's a stunning endorsement of the prison system from a Chief of Police."

"It's the truth." He slid his hand down her neck and rested it on her shoulder. "If you were selfish enough to curse a whole town because one man rejected you, then you wouldn't feel guilty afterwards."

She shook her head and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before she opened them. "I keep asking myself if I could do it if it were you."

"That's a ridiculous example. I wouldn't have rejected you."

She rolled her eyes, and he'd never been so glad to see her annoyed. Anything was better than defeated.

"I think about how I felt when you were with Jordan – and I was so angry. So jealous. If I had the power to curse people – I could have snapped. Maybe it was an accident. So many of the Troubled we help don't even know what they're doing at first. Their rage or their fear just manifests. If it was something like that I could have done it without really meaning to … but it would still be my fault."

But Jordan was his fault, and he hated himself for letting that go as far as it had. And as much as Audrey's argument was rational it still felt vehemently wrong. "The story's a lie. I'm holding to that unless we find proof otherwise. In the meantime, I'm making dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

He swallowed his reflex to tell her she needed to eat. Audrey never took well to being told she had to do anything, so he changed tactics and banked on the fact that as much as she was trying to isolate herself she didn't seem to actually want to be alone.

"Well I am, so I'm making something. You don't have to eat if you don't want." With great reluctance he let go of her shoulder and made his way to the kitchen. He did not let himself look back to see if she was following, but as he began pulling ingredients from his refrigerator he could hear her shuffle into the room. He had the strange sense that he could feel her watching as he sliced the chicken and vegetables and set the broth to boiling.

"Chicken noodle soup? Are you for real?"

He looked back. She stood in the doorway, arms still around herself, voice alight with weary disbelief.

He narrowed his eyes. "Yes?"

"You really are almost perfect."

"I'm not. It's just soup."

"Stop it!" Her voice was so fierce it did make him pause. She strode forward and settled gracelessly on one of his island chairs, fixing him with a scowl that did funny things to his heart. He wasn't sure if he was intimidated or aroused. "You're always putting yourself down. I wish you'd knock it off. I know you're not actually perfect. Jordan and the Guard and the Troubles and all that. Heaven knows we both made a lot of mistakes last time. But you're a good man, and I wish you could see that."

He wanted to kiss her, pull her to him, and never let go, because when she was saying such things to him the last thirty years fell away and he felt like the man she thought he was. And she was yelling at him, which meant she was coming back to herself, and God how he loved her.

Instead he smiled at her and drawled, "Suppose I can try."

She heaved a long, labored sigh. "You're certainly good at taking care of me, mess that I am."

"I do it for the perks," he quipped, and he let her consider the more scandalous implications of that before he turned back to the stove with a smirk. "Testing my coffee, telling me when I need a band-aid."

"That all I'm good for, Wuornos?"

"Certainly not all." None of that scratched the surface, not even the sex, but there was life in her voice and color in her cheeks again. He'd keep talking nonsense until the end of time if it raised her spirits.

He ladled out two bowls of soup and set one in front of her. She narrowed her eyes but he shrugged his shoulders and picked up his spoon.

"That's hot!" she scolded, grabbing his wrist to stop him from taking his first taste.

He could see the steam rising, but he'd honestly forgotten. It was one of the benefits of his affliction that when he did cook for himself he didn't have to wait for anything to cool. But he didn't suppose she'd want to hear that, so he held his tongue.

She continued to hold his wrist, and it was all he could do not to tilt the spoon and spill soup all over the table. She traced her fingers across his veins as if she found them fascinating, and the soft caress sent sparks running up his arm. His breath caught in his throat, and he couldn't have said anything if he'd wanted to.

After a few minutes she seemed to come back to herself and realize the way he was staring at her. She dropped his wrist, blushing furiously, and he dropped the spoon, sending soup splattering everywhere.

"Geez, sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," she said with a quiet laugh, and she stood to grab a napkin and mop up the mess. "I think the soup is cool now."

He retrieved his spoon. Instead of grabbing her own Audrey wrapped her hands around the bowl as if she wanted to soak up its warmth. It worried him that she was still so cold, but he supposed some things went deeper than the skin.

But after verifying he hadn't made any grievous mistakes and the soup was edible he nudged her spoon in her direction. "You're supposed to eat that, not use it as a heater."

"I don't even want any, remember?" she protested, but she picked up the spoon anyway and took a small mouthful.

He watched her carefully, wanting to compare her body's reaction to whatever she might tell him to spare his feelings. He was delighted to find both seemed to be in agreement. A moment after swallowing she grinned and reached for another spoonful. "My God, Nathan, this is fantastic. I was going to sulk and keep pretending I wasn't hungry – but this is really delicious."

He smiled, glad to get something warm and nutritious inside her when sometimes it seemed like she lived on caffeine and cupcakes, with an occasional side of whatever she could beg off of Duke.

"There's more where that came from."

"I may take you up on that."

They ate in silence for awhile. He was thrilled when she did ask for a second bowl.

"Is this your mother's recipe too?" she asked while she waited for it to cool.

He wasn't entirely sure what loosened his tongue. Today had left him raw, and he'd do anything to keep her distracted from what they'd learned. "Yeah. It was her special cure for a bad day. I could always tell when things were rough at the station. Even if she'd been making a roast there'd be soup on the table."

Audrey swirled her spoon around the bowl with a forced nonchalance. "You don't talk about her much."

"Never found much use in dredging up the past." The irony of that wasn't lost on him.

"What was she like?" She seemed to be waiting for him to shut her down.

He didn't. "She taught music at Haven Elementary. That could have been mortifying– but she was the cool mom. All my classmates were jealous."

He stared down into his own soup, trying to pick a few happy memories to share with her. Thinking of his mother was painful, but it was a dull ache, because he'd spent so long deliberately avoiding the issue he'd forgotten all the reasons the loss had hurt.

"She and the Chief were happy. Sometimes I'd catch them dancing in the kitchen without any music. She could even get him to sing a few bars. I used to think that was gross."

He chuckled. Now he yearned for such moments with Audrey. His parents had had a quiet intimacy he hadn't understood as a child, but as he looked at the woman beside him, hanging on to his every word with that curiosity he found so mesmerizing, he figured he got it now.

He shared a few other stories: her annual ritual of extravagant Christmas preparations, their family fishing trips, the way she'd let him help her cook, even though it took twice as long when he asked questions at every stage of the process.

When the stories petered out she asked the question he somehow knew was coming. The one anyone with more tact would have shied away from.

"How did she die?"

He remembered how cold the church had seemed. Not _Good Shepherd_ but _First Presbyterian_, which his mother had attended faithfully every Sunday. There had been a line of people offering him condolence just like with his father but they'd been even more useless then. The sadness had been so smothering he was sure he couldn't breathe, but somehow he kept living. He remembered her asking him about his day with a kiss and a smile, just a few days earlier it seemed – and nothing between that. "I don't remember."

Her eyes narrowed. Her spoon stilled. "How old were you?"

"Nine." It bothered him how this had never bothered him before. He probed at the blankness, but it didn't give.

"So the Troubles were involved, then?"

It was easy to guess the dark paths her mind was traveling down. "It wasn't your fault."

"You don't know that."

"You don't know that it was." He didn't know what happened, but he knew what happened after. "After she died the Chief and I just fell apart. Nothing I could do was ever good enough for him. My batting average was never high enough. My grades were never perfect. I was never as popular or successful as he wanted me to be."

"Your father was a damn fool." He wished he could have seen her say that to his face. "But he was also a liar, since he worked with Lucy and still looked me in the eye and said he didn't know anything about the woman in the photo. I don't think he meant to be as hard on you as he was."

He trusted Audrey implicitly, but she wasn't an impartial judge. "Guess we'll never know."

There was something else, and it was a secret he'd carried on his own for so long that he found himself needing to share it with her. "I don't remember Max Hanson." It was another empty vacuum, and this one panicked him even more because it wasn't a few days that were missing. It was years. And he wasn't sure if it was the reason for the loss or the content of those stolen memories that was more frightening. "If I really think about it I remember a different house, and the Chief wasn't there – but Max wasn't either. I looked up his file after he died." Maybe she had too, because she grabbed his hand as if she knew what was coming. He took a deep, shaky breath and forged ahead. "He beat her – and me. She didn't leave him until I was five. But I don't remember any of that."

"I'm glad," she said, squeezing his hand, and the panic receded a little. "Maybe it's better that we forget some things."

Just as long as he never forgot this moment – two damaged souls finding refuge in each other. Was the Barn's memory wipe supposed to be a kindness, to make her forget everything that she'd lost?

"You said the Guard has a family that can make people forget things, right? But they weren't on your list of Troubled people."

"We don't know who they are."

"I guess that would be a pretty easy Trouble to hide, since you could just make everyone forget that they noticed. Maybe they were involved."

"Could be worth looking into. But it's been a long day. We should get some rest."

She nodded and rose to start clearing the table. He wanted to tell her to leave it but something stopped him. Maybe they needed the normalcy. It only took a few minutes to load the dishwasher and put everything away, and it might have taken a few less if he didn't spend so much time watching her whenever she wasn't looking, completely in awe of the fact that she was moving around his kitchen doing chores like she belonged there.

It was also strange to get ready for bed together without falling into it. Since she'd returned his nighttime routine had been sacrificed to their urgent need for each other. Now it was odd to change into clothes instead of pulling them off. To shuffle around each other as they brushed their teeth and she washed the makeup off her face and brushed the tangles from her hair. She retrieved a t-shirt from his dresser without asking and he watched wordlessly as she put it on in front of him. He was struck by the fact that this is what they did now. There was no need for modesty when they'd spent so much time exploring each other's bodies. No need to ask for permission when she already knew he'd give her absolutely anything she asked for. This was no casual thing – there was no need for any of that "how do we define our relationship" garbage. Their lives were so serious they'd skipped all the baby steps in their physical relationship without even realizing. He was absolutely fine with that. He'd known, from the first time he'd realized his feelings for Audrey, that if he ever acted on them he'd never be able to stop.

Nathan waited until she'd crawled into her side of the bed to turn off the light. A nearly full moon streamed through the window, casting her pale skin in silvery shadow. She laid on her side, facing him, but there were a few feet between them and she made no move to broach the distance.

"James and I went on a picnic this morning," she said, almost wistful, but he could hear the edge of pain in her voice. "He called me Mom, and I thought: if I can just get through this meeting then it will have been a good day. But I was wrong."

He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let go, but he was pretty sure she'd said something about space earlier at the _Gull_. It felt like now might be one of those times she needed some. He knew how she hated to seem weak. But she looked so small and forlorn, curled in on herself, that he couldn't not do anything. He reached out one hand, intending to settle it on her shirt, but the need to feel her skin was too strong. He slipped his fingers under the hem and ran them softly up her back. Her skin was soft as silk and so incredibly warm, but he fought his instinct to close his eyes to savor it so he could watch her reaction, needing to know if he affected her even a fraction of the way she affected him. Her eyes widened as he continued his ministrations, stroking a gentle pattern up and down her back, and then she was scooting into him and buried her face in his neck.

"Don't stop," she commanded, and he tightened his arm around her and obeyed.

"Yes ma'am."

"Bossy," he added as an afterthought. He felt the amused hitch of her breath against his neck. It wasn't the laugh he was going for, but it was a start.

For the first time he let himself really contemplate what she had done today. Six months wasn't nearly long enough with this woman – but just this morning he'd had no idea how he was going to keep her alive six weeks, let alone six months. The thought of six months together, as partners and lovers and friends, seemed like an incredible gift. He'd discover ways to make her smile and laugh. He wouldn't let her dwell on what could not be changed. And he'd find her the answers she needed, so she could put this all behind her and start living. He imagined what it would be like, growing old with her, and his heart almost couldn't contain the joy of it.

But as thrilled as he was to have her pressed against him, so magnificent under his fingers it set his body humming with bliss, her sadness was just as overwhelming. He heard it when her breath began growing shallow, and her warm tears burned his skin. She'd tried so hard not to cry in front of him that he didn't dare draw attention to it, but he tightened his hold and felt her shudder.

"I don't care who you were or what you did hundreds of years ago," he swore. "I fell in love with the woman I pulled from that cliff, and nothing can change that."

He would not let her succumb to this, he resolved. He kept rubbing her back until her breathing leveled and deepened. It wasn't until long after he was certain she'd drifted off that he stilled his hand and let himself sleep.

* * *

_A little less angst in the next go round, I promise!_


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's note: This came out even fluffier than I intended it. I make no apologies!_

_I do apologize that it's a day late. I actually had it finished by a reasonable hour on Sunday, and then we lost phone and internet service and I wasn't able to post until today._

_Naudrey song of the day: _Iris_, by the Goo Goo Dolls._

And I'd give up forever to touch you  
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow  
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
And I don't want to go home right now

And I don't want the world to see me  
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
When everything's made to be broken  
I just want you to know who I am

_Thanks, as always, to everyone who's taken the time to review, fave, or follow._

* * *

He allowed her one day to wallow. He called the station to excuse them both and they spent most of the morning in bed, sometimes making love, sometimes just holding each other as he traced assurances onto her skin and whispered them into her hair.

Later they turned to Jack Daniels and Patsy Cline. She couldn't help but smile as he pulled the CD from a cracked and well worn case. Some part of her had always thought he'd been kidding about that. After they'd both had a few shots she pulled him up – "Easier to wallow from the floor," he'd drawled – and they swayed to the music. She couldn't help but think of his reunion, when he'd been reluctant to touch her and she hadn't wanted to let go, but hadn't been brave enough to say it. That certainly wasn't a problem anymore. His hands wandered, the alcohol perhaps making him a little fresh, and as mad as she wanted to stay at herself she still marveled at the way she came alive under his fingertips. She was glad to see him take what he wanted – especially when what he wanted was her.

The need for fresh air eventually drew them out to his front porch. He must have texted Duke for backup because there was a box of cupcakes waiting for them with a note that read: _Cheer up. What do those old bastards know, anyway?_ She'd never tell him, but she had always found something pretty about Duke's handwriting, as if even the shape of his letters was putting on a show.

They sat on Nathan's porch swing – because Haven was that sort of town – and gorged themselves on chocolate and peanut butter, vanilla and strawberry, and a few other delectable combinations. Nathan tried to tell her they were too sweet, but she insisted he save her from eating the whole dozen herself. She kissed the frosting off his lip even though she knew he'd gotten it there on purpose, and then she snuggled into him to watch the sun set over the ocean.

There wasn't a picket fence – Haven wasn't that sort of town – but that gave Audrey an unobstructed view of how the lawn gave way to a rocky cliff that tumbled into the sea. She should have been able to see the lighthouse, but the shoreline was unbroken – another of her casualties, surely.

It was a mild March, which was still quite chilly in coastal Maine. The flannel jacket Nathan lent her dwarfed her frame, but it was like his arms were around her twice, and she'd already decided she was never giving it back. Her hands were lost in the sleeves, and the hem came nearly to her knees. She'd had to roll up the cuffs to eat her cupcakes, but as she pulled them loose she could feel Nathan laughing behind her.

"I look ridiculous, don't I?"

"Nah. Midget lumberjack's a good look for you."

She twisted back and was shocked to find that he was beaming. She finally believed, as her lungs stuttered and stilled at how handsome he was when he smiled like that, that he'd been telling the truth. As inconceivable as it was, he didn't blame her. That had been one of her deepest fears – that there was some seed of bitterness inside him and once it took root and he could no longer hide it she wouldn't be able to live with herself. But there was no way he could look at her like that if he blamed her at all.

"I love you," she told him, leaning back into his chest.

He didn't say anything, just tightened his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He hadn't said much all day. He'd just been there, a warm presence at her back, when no one else had ever bothered. His love for her was so clear in all his actions that her words felt inadequate. She'd have to come up with a way to repay him.

"Tell me everything is going to be okay," she whispered.

"Everything's going to be okay," he told her. He was as reliable as the tides. As certain as the sun setting before them.

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"Yep." His breath was warm on her neck as his hand carded through her hair.

She took a deep breath and released it slowly, imagining all her uncertainties dissipating with the air. "Okay." Now it was up to her to believe it too.

* * *

Life in Haven went on. Solving cases was much more enjoyable after Nathan took their reprieve to heart and stopped picturing doom around every corner. Though Audrey's guilt still resurfaced whenever someone in town treated her coldly, Nathan's presence was usually enough to keep it at bay.

One morning she pulled out her duffle bag and found it woefully empty of anything even vaguely resembling professional attire.

"I don't have anything to wear," she muttered mostly to herself as she scanned the room for something that wasn't too wrinkled to be presentable.

"We should do laundry tonight. And you should move in."

"What did you say?" Her head snapped toward his voice immediately. He'd just come from the shower, and he was shirtless and toweling his hair dry.

"We should do laundry," he repeated slowly. "And then we should get the rest of your stuff and bring it here."

She couldn't believe they were having this conversation when she could see all the muscles in his chest. "Whoa, Wuornos. You don't just spring that on a girl. _Let's do some chores and then make a major life commitment_."

He lowered the towel and smirked at her. "You've spent every night here since you've gotten back. You only go to your apartment to swap out clothes. Makes sense for you to move in."

"Yeah, but…" She couldn't find an end to that sentence. Could barely think at all with the way her stomach was suddenly churning.

The dread must have shown on her face. "Do you want to go back to your place?" he asked, sounding hurt and worried.

"No!" The thought of that made her even sicker. She'd gotten used to waking up with him always in reach, and she made a point to touch him so he could start each day feeling something. She didn't want him to wake alone either.

He dropped the towel and stood in front of her, settling his hands on her shoulders. "What are you afraid of?"

It was uncanny how well he knew her. She took a deep breath and tried to convey the panic as something intelligible. "I'm terrible at all this relationship stuff. Even before my life became a trainwreck, _my life was a trainwreck_. I've always been on my own. I've never lived with anyone who cared – especially not a guy. I'm a mess. I rarely have time for chores. I never dust – or vacuum. I let dishes pile up. I forget to pay rent."

He chuckled. "You really haven't lived with a man before. I'm not your grandmother, Parker. I'm not looking for a housekeeper. I don't give a damn about any of that as long as I wake up beside you." She could hear his amusement just as clearly as she could see it, and even though he was mocking her it soothed her somehow.

"Besides, from the way your clothes are strewn across my house, I already figured you were a mess."

She flicked him in the neck and he shied away, exaggerating the pain. But as soon as she started to laugh his hands were back, rubbing circles on her shoulders.

"You move in here, maybe James can stay at the Gull. It'll get him out of that awful motel."

The shockwave of nostalgia was unexpected. "I love that apartment."

"We could stay there then. James could move in here."

She stared up at him, shocked that he seemed absolutely serious. "You'd give up your house – and put up with Duke as your landlord?"

"Long as you were there with me."

His tone was brimming with sincerity, but there was something a little bit wicked in his eye. "You just want to remind Duke that we're sleeping together."

He smiled at her, and God, sometimes he made her feel like such a girl. "Would be a bonus."

Fear was loosening its grip, and she could begin to see the situation rationally. "It would be silly to give up your house." In truth her apartment was too small for two people, and she didn't need a security blanket when she had him.

"There are plenty of spare rooms. You can have one. Do whatever you like with it. Go there whenever you need some time alone to paint your nails or have a good cry."

"Wow. Obviously _you've_ never lived with a woman before." But she stopped herself. She knew so little about his life in the years between the Troubles. "You haven't, have you?" she asked. She wasn't sure why the answer seemed so important. She should have wanted that for him – a normal life with a few failed relationships. But she didn't like the thought of him being rejected – or anyone else being able to lay a claim on him.

"Nah." He seemed a little wistful, and she placed her hands on his waist. He was always so warm, she couldn't comprehend how he couldn't feel it.

"Why not?"

She had wondered, long before she thought of him as anything more than a partner and friend, why a man as handsome and decent as Nathan Wuornos hadn't been snatched up long before his Trouble reactivated.

"Because I knew, as much as I tried to pretend otherwise, that the Troubles would come back. Didn't seem fair to start a life with someone when I knew I would ruin it."

She frowned, wishing she could tell him that wasn't the case.

"Besides, none of the other girls in Haven were you."

"That was terrible," she groaned, even as his cheesy words flooded her with warmth. Her fingers twitched on his skin, and she noticed something different in the way he reacted – a small smile crossed his face and he twisted away from her.

"You're ticklish," she crowed.

"Am not." His eyes widened, and she itched to prove him wrong.

"Parker," he warned, but her fingers were already moving up his sides. Soon they were both breathless with laughter. He eventually caught her wrists and trapped them against his chest.

"Move in with me," he repeated, boyish and beautiful and everything she didn't deserve but desperately wanted.

"You'll get tired of me," she admitted, her last and greatest fear.

He didn't even hesitate. "Not gonna happen."

It really was unfair that they were having this conversation when he was half dressed, she thought as she stared at his chest. "Everyone always does."

He lifted her chin gently. "Not me." He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, until it seemed they were breathing the same air and she could feel his promise down to her toes.

* * *

They did laundry that night. The next day after work Duke and James came over to the Gull to help her pack.

It was a little depressing how quickly they finished. The Gull had been more of a home to her than any other place she'd ever stayed, but it still took four people only a little more than an hour to box up all the belongings she'd acquired.

As the men tried to figure out how to get the piano downstairs she retreated to the deck, where she'd so often gone to gather her thoughts. She curled up on one of the Adirondack chairs, sad that it might be the last time.

Except for stepping into the Barn, Audrey had never found it so hard to leave somewhere.

It wasn't that she regretted her decision. When she looked at it objectively, Nathan was right – she'd already been living at his place since her return. She shouldn't be weepy over the fact she was relocating her clothes.

But the Gull had been important to her. She'd decorated, she'd thrown a Christmas party in July, she'd invited over friends and dates. She'd actually looked forward to going back there, knowing that staring out over the ocean or listening to the bustle downstairs would sooth her when life at the station was too heavy. She had started to build a life in Haven, and this was the place she'd gone to process it all.

Except she'd already left it behind without even realizing, because she had Nathan now. And that was inarguably better than solitude. But it was still unsettling to leave this, when solitude was all she'd known her entire twisted, never-ending life.

"You okay?" Duke asked, settling in the chair next to hers.

"Aren't you supposed to be helping?" she asked, tilting her head toward the truck. Nathan and James had gotten the piano out of the building, but it was still a long way from loaded.

"They got it," he said. "Besides, I had to get your present."

He handed her a narrow blue bag with a silver bow. She pulled out a fancy bottle of champagne.

"Thanks, Duke."

He grinned at her. "Least I could do for my favorite former tenant."

"Not just for this," she said solemnly. It was another thing she'd miss. Duke had been more than her landlord. He'd been someone to rely on – a listening ear and an extra gun and a short-order cook, all rolled up into the second friend she'd ever had. They'd still be friends, but now that she was moving in with Nathan they'd never be quite the same.

"You're not going to get all sappy on me, are you?"

"Maybe."

He leaned toward her conspiratorially. "I'll allow it, just this once. Only cause Nathan and James are down there."

She laughed, hugging her knees to her chest. "After we found out about the Hunter, I was a wreck. And you were always there, watching out for me. I'm not sure what I would have done if you weren't."

She could tell he appreciated the words, but in typical Duke Crocker fashion he didn't say that. But he didn't try to excuse them away, either. He looked out toward the lot where Nathan was hoisting the piano. "He taking good care of you now?"

She was sure her smile was sickening, but she couldn't temper it. "Yeah."

"If he stops, you tell me. I'll kick his ass. I won't even enjoy it. Beating on Nathan is no fun. But I'd do it."

"You won't have to," she assured. But it felt good, somehow, to know that he would.

The piano finally in place, James and Nathan began to secure it. The cadence of their voices carried, but she couldn't discern what they were saying. There was something delightful about seeing them together, as if for a few moments all was right in their crazy world. "Can I ask you another favor?"

"Another favor? Why Audrey Parker, I think you're taking advantage of me."

But she didn't take his bait this time. "Will you keep an eye on James for me? I worry about him sometimes, with Arla … and everything."

His sigh was deep, without a hint of affectation. "Yeah, I'll watch the kid. I'd be a pretty terrible uncle if I didn't, huh?"

"You're a good man, Duke," she said, but she cut him off when he tried to protest. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks."

They sat in silence for awhile, listening to the music downstairs. When she first met Duke Crocker she'd never have guessed that comfortable silence would be one of his strengths, but since she moved in here he always seemed to know when she just needed someone around.

"I feel like I'm leaving home for the first time," she said after a few minutes. "How weird is that?"

"All grown up and moving in with a boy," he teased.

"Everything okay up here?" Nathan and James had returned. Audrey smiled and patted the arm of her chair so Nathan would come and sit by her.

"Everything's great. Duke brought us booze."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"Maybe because I kept you from packing four of the wine glasses."

They were always digging at each other, but something had shifted between Nathan and Duke, and though Audrey wasn't exactly sure what she was grateful for it. She needed both of them, although in different ways, and she wanted them to get along. There were too many real enemies to fight to waste time sparring with each other.

She leaned against Nathan as Duke and James went inside to get the glasses and a bottle opener. "No regrets," she whispered, linking one of her hands with his.

The four of them toasted under the starry sky. "To old tenants. And new tenants. And friends," Duke declared grandiosely, and even Nathan managed the ghost of a smile.

"To family," she amended, watching each of the men in her life in turn. Somehow, this time around, the servant had gotten lucky.

* * *

Duke had promised he'd come by the next evening to move the piano, but Audrey and Nathan brought the rest of the boxes into his house by themselves. His delight made it impossible to hold on to her melancholy.

Once they'd moved most of the stuff to his bedroom and a few boxes to his kitchen he pulled her down the hallway to a room she'd never been in before.

"If you don't like it you can pick another one," he said. "I won't be offended."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

He opened the door and pushed her gently inside.

The walls were a warm yellow and lined with bookshelves, except for the window that gave her a clear view of the ocean. There was a desk, a comfortable looking couch, and one of the deck chairs from the Gull.

"I thought one was missing," she said, rubbing her hand over the familiar wood, surprised at how glad she was to see it when she'd just been sitting in one two hours ago.

"Duke's contribution," he said.

"Nathan, what is this?"

"Your space. For when you need it."

She wanted to jump him, right then and there, and she also had an aggravating urge to cry. She managed to do neither, but it was quite a struggle.

"How did you pull this off? I agreed to move in with you two days ago."

"James. He painted and built all the bookshelves while we were at the station."

The thought of that, her son and his father, conspiring to do all this for her was almost too much.

"There's one more thing."

"Only one?"

He handed her a square package wrapped in newspaper and she tore into it, almost afraid at how this could get any better.

It was a ceramic tile with a cerulean blue border. The words "Audrey's" and "Room" were spelled out in thick yellow letters and separated by a cupcake with chocolate frosting and white sprinkles.

"You made this," she whispered, realizing she was finally holding evidence of his infamous decoupage skills. "When did you have time to make this?"

"You're a heavy sleeper," he said, as if it wasn't a big deal at all.

Which explained why he'd been extra hard to rouse this morning but not how he got to be so ridiculously perfect.

"You're too much," she said, each and every cell brimming with so much affection for him she wasn't sure she could stand the intensity of it.

His smile made her dizzy. "You make me the happiest man in the world. Least I can do is try to return the favor."

After placing the sign in the center of the desk where it would hopefully be safe she launched herself at him, kissing him with the ferocity of a hurricane, one hand raking through his hair and the other working its way under his shirt. They stumbled backwards until she pushed him against one of the bookshelf covered walls, which would have been uncomfortable for anyone else, but for once she was grateful that she didn't have to care. She continued to ravage him until she needed to come up for air and then they panted together like animals while her hands continued to move, move, move.

"So now that I live here, you'll have to show me your decoupage room," she murmured into his neck, her tongue flicking out to taste him.

It was a testament to just how much time they'd spent desensitizing him that he was able to manage a coherent response. "That wasn't part of the deal."

"Guess I'll have to move out then." Her hands moved to his belt buckle and lingered there, teasing.

"Shame." His hand ran up her thigh and she decided it was time to get his pants off.

"We're supposed to christen every room in the house, right?" she asked a few minutes later, all thoughts of even pretending to leave long forgotten.

"I think we've hit a few already." She loved when his voice went all low and gravely and he tossed his inhibitions out the window.

"Better do them again though, just to be safe."

His fingers danced across her. "No arguments here."

"You think you can find it," he purred in her ear later as she neared the edge, every muscle coiled against him. She'd meant to have the upper hand, but somehow he'd turned the tables.

"What?" she asked, nearly delirious.

"The decoupage room."

It was honestly the last thing on her mind, but she appreciated he thought so much of her concentration.

"Oh yeah," she said, but it came out more of a sigh then anything, and the way he was touching her she didn't care.

"By the time we get there, you won't even notice," he promised, and she came laughing into his shoulder, hoping he was right.

* * *

She found it a few days later while she was pawing through the knick-knacks on top of his dresser – a dusty gold ring on a silver chain.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Nathan asked from the doorway, and Audrey jumped like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

But he was far too distracted by her appearance to take much notice of her actions. She was wearing the flannel shirt and fur-lined boots he'd bought her shortly after she came to Haven, her hair tossed up in a messy bun so it would be out of her way while snooping.

"You kept that," he said after he'd looked her up and down.

She smiled, glad that he was obviously pleased. "Course I did. It was the first gift you ever gave me – even if you were making fun of me for being an outsider. Which turned out to be untrue, by the way. I've been in Haven longer than anyone."

"Yet you still have no idea how to dress for a Maine winter," he said, shaking his head with a laugh. "Were you going through my stuff?"

"Yep," she answered without shame. "You're the one who asked me to move in. I'm nosy. You'll have to deal with it. I found the ring."

It was only after she said it that she realized how that sounded. But his eyes went wide immediately. "That's not for you. Not that it couldn't be. I mean—"

"Obviously," she said to stop his floundering. "Because it would be in a box, not on a chain. Not that I've been thinking about that, because that would be - crazy."

"Not that crazy," he muttered under his breath. But even as her heart pounded in her throat she noticed something shifty in his gaze.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.

"You're not wearing any pants."

She threw back her head and laughed, their uneasy spell broken. "Great observation, Sherlock."

That was for his benefit, of course. His libido had been suppressed for so long, she liked making him feel like a man. It was always fun when he turned all shades of awkward. What came after the awkward was fun too.

But seducing him would have to wait, because there was something important about the ring and she wouldn't be sidetracked until they figured this out.

"So what's the story?" she asked, opening her hand and letting the ring dangle on its chain from her fingers.

"It was my father's."

"Pretty feminine for the Chief," she teased.

"You don't think he was a jewelry guy?" he countered with an easy smile. "He used to keep it in his pocket. Always had it with him."

"Was it your mother's?"

"No. He buried her with her wedding rings. Strangely sentimental for the Chief. Or maybe he just assumed I'd never need them."

She let that slide, the topic a little too close to home after their earlier exchange. "Whose was it then?"

"He never said. But I found it after he … exploded. I used to wear it. Stopped after you were gone. Didn't seem worth it, or something." He scratched at the back of his neck. "Why are you so interested?"

She opened the jewelry box she'd placed on his dresser and pulled her own ring from the bottom. "Vince gave this to me. Said it was Sarah's," she explained as she handed it to him.

He rolled it between his thumb and forefinger, taking in the same size and color. The diamonds were arranged differently, and Audrey didn't know much about jewelry, but there seemed to be similarities. "Think they were a set?"

"Yeah, I do." She wasn't sure where the conviction came from, but it felt right. "There's an inscription on it."

"PAH," they said simultaneously.

"Well I guess that solves that," Audrey said.

"Hardly."

"Did Sarah wear a ring?"

"No." He blushed as he said it, and she wished for the millionth time that she could remember why. What had he done to Sarah, exactly? What had she done to him?

"How old do you think these are?" she asked.

"No idea. Guess we could ask an appraiser. They seem old."

"Sixteenth century old?"

"What are you thinking?"

"Maybe I cursed the town and stole the mayor's daughter's wedding rings just for fun."

He shot her a disapproving look. He was still holding steadfast to her innocence in this whole debacle. "If we can identify the initials that could give us a lead."

It was a place to start when they didn't have many of those. But holding onto the ring which Nathan had worn around like a talisman for no discernable reason, she couldn't shake the feeling that it was hers.

Apparently thinking that is should have been was what had started all this.

"You think Lucy gave this to your dad?"

"Makes as much sense as anything, I guess."

"But why? And why would Sarah give hers to Vince?"

"Something to remember her by?"

It was hard to fathom how many times the cycle had played out – her leaving her friends behind with very little explanation. Was that why Garland had never said anything? Was the fact she didn't remember him too hard to face?

But as much as she'd wanted to leave a piece of herself for Nathan, she'd never once considered giving him a ring. And she'd had one, so she could have.

"How would she get them?"

"Same way you did, maybe? Passed down from cycle to cycle by those she left behind."

"So maybe you were supposed to give this back to me."

It was easy to see how the thought of that pained him. Talk of the Barn was inevitable when they were so consumed with solving this mystery, but they were both trying to live in the present.

"You should hang on to it. Since we destroyed the Barn and I'm not going anywhere." She reached up and dropped the chain over his head. The ring settled on his chest like it belonged there. "I'm back now. So maybe you should start wearing that again."

"'Kay. And you can keep this one." He handed her Sarah's ring and she put it back in her jewelry box.

"That leaves just one question," he told her.

"Only one?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Why aren't you wearing any pants?"

"Thought that was obvious," she said, trying not to giggle. "I'm trying to seduce you." He grinned, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her bare leg against his. "Think breakfast can wait?" she whispered in his ear.

"Breakfast can always wait," he answered, finding the buttons on her shirt.

"Even pancakes?"

"Even pancakes," he echoed sincerely before kissing her.

Being preferred over a breakfast food had never felt like such a victory.

* * *

_A little bit of bad news – I'm about to hit my busy season at work, which means I'm probably not going to be able to keep up the weekly updates for the next two months. I'll do what I can, but I'm going to spent 4 of the next 8 weekends working about 36 hours straight – and then sleeping the rest of it off, so that's going to cut into my writing time significantly. If you think of me, feel free to make a donation to your local Relay For Life or pray for some nice weather._


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks for the patience, everybody! One Relay down and three to go.**

**Nathan/Audrey song of the day: Clarity by Zedd**

_I dive into frozen waves where the past comes back to life  
Fight fear for the selfish pain, it was worth it every time  
Hold still right before we crash 'cause we both know how this ends  
A clock ticks 'til it breaks your glass and I drown in you again_

_If our love is tragedy, why are you my remedy?  
If our love's insanity, why are you my clarity?_

* * *

Between the bizarre cases and unanswered questions they scrambled for some semblance of normalcy. Life in Haven was a three ring circus on the best of days and an outer circle of Hell on the worst. But there were hours when the world seemed to forget her importance and leave them alone, and Audrey cherished those more than any gift she'd ever received.

The sex was phenomenal, of course, and there was plenty of that. But she liked the quiet moments too, the both of them in his bed after a long day, sharing a pillow while she trailed her fingers lazily up and down his arm and they smiled at each other in the dim light like fools.

Intimacy had always made her uncomfortable. Maybe that started hundreds of years ago when her parents shipped her off to a hostile continent to pay their debts. Maybe the Barn always chose identities for her like Audrey Parker, who learned at a young age that anyone who wanted to get close had bad intentions, but few even bothered with that. But all the fortifications she'd built came crashing down when Nathan offered himself to her with wide eyes and a desperation for human contact more profound than her own. While trying to give him everything he deserved she found that she wanted it too. She'd spent so long believing that no one could want her the fact that he did was an enormity she couldn't comprehend. But she craved every piece of evidence, and she collected it diligently, whether they were working a case or hiding from the world.

But she was still Audrey Parker, relationship wrecking ball.

Her fingers found the tattoo on his forearm. All the times and ways she'd touched him she'd consciously avoided it, but something drew her to it tonight. She was never any good at just letting things be. Her curiosity slayed felines wherever she went. There was so much they'd never spoken of, and once again the time clock on her life was counting down. She hadn't brought it up because she hadn't wanted to fight with him, but she didn't want this to hang over the rest of their time together, either.

He tensed but she persisted, tracing the men at the points of the maze. It had taken on such sinister implications for them all, but the symbol itself looked harmless enough. She supposed secret societies were supposed to be subtle. Weren't they all standing outside the maze of life, unsure how to navigate its twisted passages?

Apparently copious amounts of sex and spooning made her philosophical.

It didn't make her any more tactful.

She liked the quiet moments, but she ruined them anyway.

"Did you sleep with Jordan?" she asked.

The smile melted from his face, leaving his features blank and unreadable. As panic crept over her words started tumbling from her mouth so she wouldn't have to wait in silence for his answer. "Not that it matters, really. She's gone, and obviously you chose me and—"

"Yes."

She didn't understand why it hurt so damn much. She'd been nearly certain of that, the way the two of them had been together. The way Jordan had acted when Nathan had died. They'd been a couple too long for them not to have slept together. And it wasn't like Audrey's jealousy even made sense, because she'd had him every way possible since she'd been back and she knew without a doubt that he'd choose her over Jordan every time. But she hated the fact they had ever been together. Her stomach churned, but instead of retreating she twisted the knife deeper.

"Did you feel anything?" She hated herself for asking when she already knew the answer; it was catty and hurtful but she needed confirmation anyway.

He pushed himself up with one arm. Ran the other hand through his hair, agitated. "No," he said, dark as one of Marion's storms. The room crackled with anticipation. After the thunder shook them, what would the lightning show?

"Not just physically. I never cared about her. I wasn't trying to get over you. Maybe that makes you feel better. But it makes me sick."

It made her sick too, the self-loathing in his voice and the images his words conjured. She wanted to take back the questions, shut Pandora's box, find some shelter from the lashing winds. But she didn't stop him, because she'd always been one to stand and fight rather than hide.

"I used her. I knew exactly how desperate she was to feel somebody, so I took advantage of her Trouble and mine. I made her think I actually cared, and the whole time, God even when I was inside her, all I could think was how I needed to save you."

The truth was like some grotesque, twisted creature in the bed between them. She wanted to beat it to death, bury it far away, and erase it from her memory. But she had no right. He was trying to blame himself, but her role in his corruption had never been more obvious. His indiscretion was because of hers. Once again she had taken love and turned it into something vicious.

She wanted to scream, because she'd never meant to do this to him. He'd just been too stubborn to let her go. And she wanted to throw up, because she didn't want him to be capable of this.

He was still talking, whatever restraint that usually stopped up his words destroyed with their innocence. "Then I cheated on her with Sarah. But every time I was with her I felt like I was cheating on you. And I'd sworn to myself I'd never treat a woman like that. I never thought I was the kind of man who could."

She didn't think he was the kind of man who could do that either. Is that why it felt like she was swallowing glass? Or was she just being selfish again, hating the thought of him touching another woman, spending all his time naked with Jordan when she was contemplating her approaching mortality – or immortality, more likely – completely alone?

She blinked the tears away, determined not to let them fall. "She tried to kill you," she offered lamely, but they were both too smart to believe that absolved him.

"Doesn't matter. She just wanted to be normal again. Duke killed her right in front of me and I didn't even care. I was sleeping with her for a month, and I didn't mourn her once."

His voice was practically a wail, and she could sense him pulling away emotionally just as he'd moved to the edge of the bed to put physical distance between them. But she wasn't going to stand for it. As much as she wanted to flee from all this ugliness, she'd only go if she could drag him with her.

"I kissed Duke in Colorado," she admitted. As a different fire flared in his eye she reached out and clamped a hand around his arm, demanding. "You can't be mad at him! I started it, and then I stopped and he was a gentleman about it – well, for Duke anyway – but it happened and I want you to know."

"Why?" She couldn't get a read on his tone of voice and thought maybe she'd miscalculated. She needed him to see she wasn't blameless in all of this. But maybe bringing up Duke had been a bad idea.

"Because he was there. He was there, helping me, and he kept telling me I should live out whatever life I had left and I was so tired of being lonely. But it was wrong. I knew it almost instantly. He wasn't the one I wanted to be kissing. Going any further would have broken all of us, and there wouldn't have been any time to fix it, and I couldn't do that to either of you. You were both supposed to look out for each other while I was gone."

He sighed like something inside him was giving up, and she ached down to the marrow of her bones. She wanted to go back to a few minutes ago, when they'd been so happy. Why did she shatter everything she loved?

"He's in love with you," Nathan whispered.

It was so incomprehensible she laughed, despite everything. "Stop it. Duke flirts with everyone."

But Nathan was solemn in the moonlight. "He admitted it. After you went into the Barn. I could see it all over his face."

The pieces clicked into place as the truth sunk into her soul, and she wasn't sure how she hadn't realized before.

"I didn't know." But maybe she should have. The revelation cast clarity on all his actions since she'd come to Haven. She'd thought it was his past with Nathan, however tumultuous, that kept him involved in their little drama. She never thought he'd seen her as anything more than a friend and a casual flirtation.

"He wouldn't try anything…" She was certain of that. There was nothing devious in his motives.

She wouldn't be able to handle it if there was.

"I know. You should just be careful. Don't string him along. I know what it feels like to want someone you think you can never have."

Her hand reached out to link with one of his, and he didn't pull away. Her stomach started to settle as she realized the implication of his words. "You're looking out for him," she teased softly.

"Am not," he answered petulantly.

"Are too. I knew it. You secretly like Duke."

He looked horrified at the notion. "Do not."

"Yeah you do. No hiding it now. I'm on to you." She tugged on his arm, urging him to settle back into bed. The storm was passing. Maybe the rain would cleanse them all.

He laid back down but kept his distance. She stared at him, trying to figure out what to say, but all she could manage was to squeeze his hand.

"How can you even look at me?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Because this is my fault. Not yours."

"Damn it, Audrey. Let me take some responsibility!"

But she wasn't going to lose him, not even to himself. "Fine. Sure. Long as I get my share. I could have stopped all this. After Duke told me about the Hunter I should have admitted that I wanted to start something between us but I didn't think it was fair when I would be gone in forty-six days. You would have told me that was your choice, and you'd rather we make the most of the time we had, and we would have been far too busy screwing our brains out for you to have even met Jordan. Maybe we would have found a way to keep me here, and maybe we wouldn't have, but you wouldn't have had to sell yourself to Jordan for information she didn't even have. Instead I just moped around making us all miserable. I made choices for you, I made choices for Duke, I completely ignored what I wanted and I fucked us all up. If I could go back in time and change it all I would. But I can't. And you can't either. I hate that you slept with Jordan and I hate that it was because of me. But we already wasted so much time because of that. I just want to put it behind us. Because I love you, and I forgive you. If you need a day or two to wallow I can give you that, but you don't get to pull away and let that woman ruin us. I won't stand for it. Because all we have for sure are the next five months, and we're going to make the most of every minute, you hear me?"

"Yes ma'am." The response was instinctual; Nathan had learned fast that it was best not to argue when she got bossy. But she could practically see him processing her words, that sensitive, skeptical mind of his considering whether to accept them. She willed him to understand how much she was willing to forgive him for. If he didn't care that she'd cursed an entire town how could she not be as open minded? There was something dangerous about her love, if history was to be trusted, but she'd embrace that as long as it was him it protected.

Perhaps it was her scowl that convinced him. After a few seconds his face relaxed and he leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead.

There was something so tender in the gesture her heart nearly burst. His lips lingered a few seconds, and then his head sank to the crook of her neck. She raised a trembling hand to run it through his hair, closing her eyes to focus on the feel of his warm breath on her throat, the fluttering of damp eyelashes against her skin.

She might have comforted James like this if their lives had been less chronologically confused. It might have been maternal affection that surged inside her now, demanding she protect this man at any cost. Whatever it was she embraced the feeling. Anyone who wanted to get at Nathan would have to go through her first.

There was another feeling blossoming inside her, the one she always felt whenever he held her in his arms, that she'd searched for all her lonely life and never found until she met him – relief.

_They were going to be okay_.

"I'd never cheat on you," he swore, the promise punctuated with the whisper of a kiss against her throat.

She stilled her hands and tried not to let her body betray how much she wanted him to do that again. "Damn well better not. I've got a gun and I know how to use it."

She felt his body contract in a silent chuckle. Her hands began to wander once more, and one of his made its way to her back.

"If Duke ever kisses you again I'm going to punch him in the face."

Now it was her time to laugh. "Seems fair."

They resituated once he'd pulled himself together, her ear to his chest so his heartbeat could lull her to sleep. Jordan didn't matter. As long as Audrey was still here after their six months were up, no one else in the world would ever be this close to him again.

She would make sure he had everything he ever dreamed of, and then she'd come up with a way to top that.

Without meaning to, her hand came to rest on the tattoo, covering it.

His voice startled her back into awareness, dry and sardonic. "I could get it removed. Wouldn't even hurt."

She shook her head, knowing full well he could feel the shifting of every strand of hair against his sensitive skin. "I think you should keep it. As a reminder that we can rise above our mistakes."

If she had anything to say about it, they'd rise like phoenixes from these ashes and set the whole town ablaze.

* * *

_A couple conversations I think these two really needed to have! I'd love to hear your feedback._

_There was meant to be another scene with this one, but if I didn't post this today you'd probably be waiting another two weeks so I figured a shorter chapter was better than nothing._

_And of course, Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there!_


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note: So sorry! Work's been crazy, and then I took a post-work vacation, and in the midst of all this I rewatched the end of season two and got nostalgic for the pre-angst days and wrote a whole other fic, and now its sequel is busting around my brain and demanding my attention. If you're looking for some Nathan/Audrey fluff to hold you over that bypasses all the nonsense of season three, check out "I Think I Know Why the Dog Howls at the Moon." I'm quite fond of it, and would love to know what you think.**

**And yeah, it will have a sequel, because I've already written most of it. But reviews might motivate me to shirk the rest of my life and spend more time writing.**

* * *

Duke had never been the kind of man who enjoyed routine, but there was something soothing about the restaurant and its many cycles. Inventory, open, close. Taco Tuesdays. Karaoke Thursdays. He hated payroll – doing the math and writing the checks – but the more often he did it the more he realized he appreciated the stability it represented – a stability he'd never had before in all his life.

He'd been taking fewer and fewer smuggling jobs in the months before the Hunter. He'd told himself he wanted to be nearby in case Audrey needed him.

Maybe some part of him had been stricken by Julia Carr's biting words, his little pigtailed shadow all grown up and denouncing him for being a criminal.

Or maybe it was the desire to prove Nathan wrong. To show him he could be a better man than his father.

Since returning from the Barn Duke had only taken the _Cape Rouge_ out on a brief fishing excursion to clear his head.

All his contacts thought he'd flown the coup, he told himself as he wiped down the bar on a Wednesday night. It'd be tricky wading back into the game, and with Haven such a powder keg it was better to stay close. Nathan might deny it, but he and Audrey need another pair of hands for whatever was going down.

Besides, it took a lot of elbow grease to get the _Grey Gull_ back up and running, so it made sense he'd want to stick around and make sure everything progressed smoothly.

What confused the hell out of him was the crazier Haven got, the less compelled he felt to leave.

He'd always enjoyed playing bartender, though, because it gave him a chance to be witty and flirt with girls for tips and survey the whole place and appreciate that for the first time in his life he had something good that was unquestionably, legally his.

Business had been solid since the reopening, and he was mixing a piña coloda when one of his waitresses called for his attention.

"Hey boss. You want us to be on the lookout for anything suspicious, right?"

He flashed the girl a grin, but he was already peering past her, looking for anyone burly and dangerous. "What have you got for me?"

"There's a man sitting alone in the corner of the restaurant. He's been here the past couple of nights. Never orders anything but a water, and he sticks around until we close the place down."

Nathan had warned him that reopening the Gull made him a target, but he'd ignored the advice. He really hoped this wasn't how the Guard offed him, because it would be mortifying to die proving Nathan right. "He doesn't have a tattoo on his arm, does he?"

"I haven't noticed one."

"Great. Care to point him out?"

Duke came around the bar for a better look, and Marcy pointed to the loner in the corner. Duke immediately relaxed when he recognized the near-familiar scowl.

"That's my new tenant, actually. Next time he comes in here and asks for a water give him a jack and coke on the house. And can you get Joel to cover the bar? I have to talk to him about rent."

He grabbed a bottle of scotch and two tumblers and made his way over the James, who was staring into his glass of water as if it was something a hell of a lot stronger. "You know, I'm not an expert on etiquette in the 1980's, but in 2012 when someone hangs out in a bar, they're supposed to order drinks."

James jerked, and when his eyes met Duke's his scowl deepened. "I'll go then."

"I wasn't saying you should leave. I was saying you should drink." Duke set the glasses on the table and poured two measures of scotch, pushing one toward James while grabbing the other and settling himself in the chair across from the brooding man.

"I'm not paying for that."

"Course not. Gift from your friendly landlord."

"I don't need your charity," he snarled.

Duke downed his shot to keep from saying something he'd regret, Audrey's plea to look out for the kid running through his mind. He didn't look much like Nathan most of the time, but it was uncanny how he seemed to be channeling him now. The trick would be to ignore the way he was acting like Nathan and treat him as if he was Audrey. Having one Wuornos as a fair weather enemy was quite enough, not to mention Audrey's wrath if he made her kid's life any harder than it already was.

"You think Audrey ever paid for anything around here?" Duke poured himself a second shot, and dumped a little more liquor into James' glass. "Food. Drinks. Coffee. Advice. There are a lot of perks to living at the Gull. Might as well enjoy them."

It was really a shame Audrey hadn't had a daughter, Duke mused as his charm fell flat.

"Seriously. If you don't start drinking I'm going to keep talking."

That got James to down the shot pretty quickly. "Ouch. That hurt." But Duke flashed him a smile and poured him another drink. James cradled the glass, brow furrowed.

Duke knew firsthand how Audrey couldn't stand silence. After he'd found out about the Hunter they'd spent a lot of nights together on her balcony, and even when she'd say she just wanted company it wasn't long before she was rambling about leads or theories or therapy sessions with Claire. But Duke didn't think something like that was genetic, and James hadn't spent enough time with Audrey to pick up her habits. Even if he had, Duke wasn't his confidant. James didn't trust him or even like him – and a few years ago Duke would have quickly given this up as a lost cause. But now it was more than the thrill of the challenge keeping him focused.

Audrey didn't need him anymore – not the way she had, anyway, when he'd usurped the role of best friend because Nathan was being a jackass. Truth be told he'd always known it would be temporary. If Audrey didn't disappear then she and Nathan would eventually get their act together. Even Nathan couldn't screw up the way Audrey looked at him – though damn, he'd really tried. Duke had resigned himself to that since the night in Colorado. He'd done all the right things, been charming and supportive and _there, _and even his superior kissing skills hadn't been enough to sever her connection to Nathan.

He'd always found her loyalty kind of sexy, anyway. And it said a lot about the strength of their friendship that they really were okay after she put the brakes on anything romantic. There hadn't been a whole lot of time for awkwardness, with Nathan being dead and the Bolt Gun Killer running amok and the clock ticking down to the arrival of the world's most temporally complicated barn.

But now she and Nathan were shacking up and it was the cop she turned to when she needed advice or a shoulder to cry on. Aside from missing her, Duke still wanted to help. And if the help she needed was making sure her moody son didn't drown in despair or do anything rash, then he wasn't going to give up.

So he waited. And drank. And waited some more.

"It's too quiet upstairs," James finally admitted after he'd downed a couple of shots. "I've been coming down here because of the noise."

Audrey had never once complained to him that her apartment was too quiet. It might have been heartbreaking if their lives weren't already all kinds of tragic.

Duke took another drink, figuring he'd need it before this conversation was over. "Look, I'm not going to pretend to know what you're going through. I don't think anyone does – unless Arla had some relative who married some poor smuck – which come to think of it probably has happened, because history has a tendency to repeat with anything Trouble related. I knew a couple of people Arla killed – and so did Nathan and Audrey, so they're not going to want to talk to you about this."

'That's fine," James interrupted.

"No it isn't. But here's the thing. I was married once too. Evidence Ryan." He swirled the liquid in his glass. He'd never talked to anyone about Evi. He wasn't exactly sure what was driving him now. Perhaps he had drunk too much.

"With a name like that, I should have known she was trouble. Actually, I did. I met her in Barbados running a con. We were young, stupid, high on the thrill of it. I don't know if I really loved her. I thought I did at the time. But it certainly wasn't mushy, star-crossed love like your parents. We were just two people who seemed to want the same things in life."

He could still picture her wild curls and devilish smile – the gleam she'd get in her eyes when he suggested something dangerous – but not so much the lines of her face or the shape of her nose. Somehow the idea of Evi had always been more alluring than the woman herself.

"It was fun, for awhile. Evi and I, we had this game we played. We were always trying to one-up each other. So one day she double crosses me and leaves me behind, and I know she's expecting me to come find her. But I got a call from a friend back in Haven that weird stuff was going down. And I knew the Troubles were back."

He could still remember the chill that had run down his spine at Ian's description of the way the skin had melted right off Mrs. O'Malley. He hadn't thought about the Troubles in years – had half convinced himself they were just stories, like the tales the islanders would tell about ghosts and men who cut out children's hearts and gave them to the devil. But before Ian had even finished he'd felt the trap clamp around his ankle, and all the escape routes he'd spent years chasing vanish like smoke behind a retreating ferry.

"So here's the thing. My father was a bastard. Never any doubt about that. And he seemed to know I was going to get the hell out of town as soon as I could. But before he died he made me promise that I'd come back to Haven when the Troubles did. And for some reason, even though I hated him, I knew I had to keep this promise. I'd been a kid the last time the Troubles were here, but I remembered some pretty crazy shit. I didn't want Evi mixed up in that, so I went back to Haven without her."

How he wished that was the end of the story. That she could remain an anecdote from his reckless youth that he'd pull out one night when he wanted to shock Nathan and Audrey. "Did I ever tell you about my wife?" he'd ask nonchalantly, and he'd laugh at the way they gaped at him. The memories were all tainted now. It had seemed somehow shameful, when she'd showed up and he'd never mentioned her, and he could never tell them how he got married half naked on a beach under the full moon because all three of them would think of him locked in that cell, covered in her blood.

What a damned waste.

He took another drink to steady himself and glanced up to see James watching him intently. At least it was working.

"I didn't see her for three years, and then she just showed up in Haven. I tried to keep my distance – but she always had a way of reeling me in. Then one day I grab her phone to take a photo of Nathan making a fool of himself – and there's a message from the Rev. This guy was a big creep, but he kept hinting he knew information about my father. Turns out she was working for him. Got your father demoted, and God knows what else. And when I confront her about it the whole police station gets locked down. Some killer disease Trouble. She tells me she did it all for me. That Reverend Driscoll told her I was special and important. And then she busts out of the station demanding answers, and takes a bullet to the chest."

So much about Evi had faded, but he remembered that night vividly. The anger, the confusion. Her excuses that didn't make any sense. The desperation in their last encounter. The way he knew the instant she died because the spark left her eyes. His determination to storm out there and avenge her death, because that day seemed as good as any to die. The hollowness he felt looking at her body, which he'd never been able to shake or characterize.

"And I was just so furious. Still am. And I'm not sure if I was mad because she was working for the Rev or because she got herself killed. I guess that probably means I didn't love her, because it wasn't so much that she was gone as how she went, and the fact she left me with more questions than answers. Maybe it was always a lie. Maybe she found me in Barbados because she was supposed to manipulate me in Haven. I'll never know, and sometimes that keeps me up at night."

He'd never admitted such things to anyone. Audrey had tried to get him to talk about Evi once, but he'd shot her down and she'd never tried again. It had felt wrong somehow – like his devotion to Audrey was a betrayal of Evi, and Evi's very existence was a betrayal of Audrey. Damned women, and the way they shook him all up like a martini. Nathan had certainly never tried to broach the subject, though he had left him an expensive bottle of scotch after the funeral.

"It'll always suck, I think. Same thing with Arla. Your parents might try to sugarcoat it, but I'm not gonna. We'll never know what was going on in their heads. This damn town, it can mess people up pretty bad, and often the biggest victims are those left behind."

It was only the alcohol that gave him the courage to look at James. He certainly didn't want any pity from the man whose wife skinned people and stitched their body parts together. Thankfully the kid looked intrigued more than anything.

"Did you ever get the Rev to tell you what he knew?"

"Nah. Audrey shot him for threatening a Troubled girl. But then my father came back as a ghost and told me all about my family legacy. How I was supposed to murder Audrey and it was my duty to kill other Troubled people to purge their bloodlines of their afflictions. Turns out I preferred not knowing any of that."

Life had certainly been simpler when he was content to be a ne'er-do-well drifter. All this legacy sins of the father shit was enough to drive a man to drink. He wasn't sure how Audrey stayed sane throwing past lives on top of all that.

"How do you stand it?"

It was the pleading in James's tone that had Audrey worried, like a frayed bowline close to snapping. No one could blame the kid for doing so.

But no one might be able to patch him either.

"I kept busy. I have my boat, the restaurant. Audrey kept pulling me into her cases. At first I was annoyed about that but she was right – wallowing wasn't doing me any good."

This seemed to agitate him more than Duke expected. "I told them I'd help find an end to the Troubles, but I have no idea how to do that. They don't need me. And just waiting around here, in the place that killed her… Sometimes I think I might go as crazy as she did."

"I'm sure Nate and Audrey are glad you're here. But they're not used to being parents, and they've got a whole lot of baggage to work through from before the Barn."

"I don't need a babysitter."

"I didn't say you did. What did you used to do back in Colorado?"

"I was a carpenter."

Duke considered that a moment. "That's a pretty useful trade. Shouldn't have changed much in the past thirty years. I've got a couple of projects around here I could use some help with."

"I don't want your charity!"

He rolled his eyes and realized that it probably wasn't going to be a member of the Guard that was the death of him – it would be Nathan and Audrey's son. "Calm down. Last I checked honest work wasn't charity. Better than just letting your parents pay your rent. Besides, I'm not convinced Audrey's balls are gonna keep the Guard off our back forever. I'd like to put a safehouse in here – and it's better that's done by someone I trust. Plus I know some folks who wouldn't mind looking the other way if you don't have a license or any bonding, long as the price is good."

"Helping me isn't going to make Audrey leave Nathan you know."

Duke was hurt, but also a little impressed that even half-drunk the youngest (or was it oldest, technically?) Wuornos had such a solid grasp on the situation. He was hurt and lashing out, but he was paying attention. "Wow, not pulling any punches are you, Junior? I know that."

"Then why are you doing this?"

Flippancy was second nature. "I told you. Free advice is part of the lease."

"You're full of shit."

For some reason it amused him to be called out on that for once. "And you're so like both your parents I'm not sure how this town is going to survive."

It took a few moments to formulate an honest answer he was willing to share, but James waited for him. Was it really only loyalty to Audrey that drove him – a loyalty which he knew would never get him anywhere? There were other ways to keep an eye on James besides spilling his guts about his dead wife. A few years ago he'd never put up with his attitude.

Audrey had insisted more than once that he was turning into a good man. Damn if she wasn't right.

"Truth is I could have used someone looking out for me when I was your age." Unwilling to end the night on such a serious note, he flashed James a grin. "Besides, it'll get your old man riled up if we're friendly, and that's always fun."

* * *

**I know, I know, I've made you wait so long and there isn't even any Nathan and Audrey. Sorry. I meant to tag this onto the last update – but good thing I didn't, or that wouldn't have gotten posted until today.**

**But check out "I Think I Know Why the Dog Howls at the Moon" if you haven't already for plenty of fluff, and I promise the next update will get back to our favorite couple.**

**Thanks for sticking with this. I'll try to be better with my updates.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's Note: So sorry guys! This summer has been flying by, and I got distracted by writing **_**Five Times Audrey Tells Nathan She Loves Him … And One Time She Doesn't. **_**Which you should all go read, by the way, if you haven't already.**

**Song for this chapter is **_**More of You**_** by the Goo Goo Dolls. Most of their latest album, **_**Magnetic**_**, has a strong Nathan/Audrey vibe, I think, and I highly recommend it.**

* * *

_Am I ever gonna get you next to me?_  
_Come on will you give me a sign_  
_I think we both could use some mending_  
_No matter what you say I'm gonna make you mine_

_Are you gonna keep me waiting_  
_Are you gonna let me inside_  
_When you're comin' undone_  
_Do you wanna run away tonight?_

Nathan liked to read the newspaper in the morning, and Audrey liked to read Nathan.

She'd always been one to stay up too late and rue the morning, leaving herself just enough time after her alarm sounded to dress and run out the door. But Nathan, apparently, preferred leisurely mornings. Whenever she groused that his alarm went off far too early he'd apologize with a kiss – or sometimes more than a kiss – and then slip out of bed to get ready. When she finally emerged showered and dressed she'd find him in the kitchen with his head in the _Haven Herald, _breakfast and coffee already waiting at the place beside him. He'd acknowledge her when she entered but his attention always went back to the paper as if he actually believed the lies the Teagues printed about their dangerous little town.

So she would eat her eggs and wait for the caffeine to work its way through her system, and because she had no interest in reaching for any of Nathan's discarded sections she would watch him instead. He never commented on any of the stories, even with her beside him, but she could often discern his reaction from the look on his face. For a stoic man he was unusually expressive, but she wondered if that had something to do with how often she overloaded his sense of touch nowadays. Being unable to hide his reaction to that, maybe he just forgot to hide his reaction to other things.

Whatever the reason, it was fascinating to watch him scoff and marvel without saying a word. She learned new things about him every day, and she appreciated the invitation into his daily routine, even if it meant she slept less and had bigger and more consistent breakfasts than she ever had in her life.

It didn't hurt that it gave her an excuse to stare at him – to watch the adorable way his brow furrowed when he was surprised by something or the knowing smirk that appeared anytime he understood what the Teagues weren't really saying.

She'd never admit it, but she'd become fond of their morning routine. It gave her time to think about things that weren't related to the Troubles, such as the man sitting beside her. They'd approached their whole relationship in such a backwards way she was still learning things about him that she probably should have known a long time ago.

She was musing on that one morning when revelation struck.

"I just realized something!" she exclaimed, flush with a eureka moment.

"Hmmm?" he hummed from behind a wall of newsprint.

"We've never been on a date."

That caused him to lower the paper. "That can't be—"

But the idea was snowballing as her brain connected the dots, and she was certain she was right. "It's true. We've gone out undercover and dressed up to investigate, but that doesn't count. We were going to have a date the night I was abducted, but that never happened. Now we live together and have sex constantly - we even have a kid - but we've never been on an honest to goodness, dress up and meet me at seven date."

She watched him consider that, but the response he came up with was, "Huh." He was particularly fluent in monosyllable in the morning.

After nearly a minute he followed that with, "Wouldn't say _constantly_." He sounded part wry, part petulant, and she rolled her eyes in fond exasperation.

"That wasn't the important part of my argument. We should be wining and dining each other. So we're going to start now. Tomorrow night. Dress up. You can pick me up in my cupcake room. Though make it six, not seven."

His lips twitched upward and she was finally certain she had his complete attention. "I'm apparently not very good at this, but aren't you supposed to ask someone if they want to go on a date with you?"

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Do you want to have dinner with me tomorrow?"

"Yep."

"Smartass," she said with a laugh, swiping his last piece of toast in retaliation.

* * *

She spent more time that afternoon researching potential dates than suspects, but by the end of the day she was proud of their itinerary, which she refused to share with Nathan. Friday dragged, and she kept waiting for a new case to swoop in and make leaving town that night impracticable, but for once Haven was atypically quiet.

She hadn't been up to buying a new outfit when the shopkeeper would probably call her a harlot and spread rumors of her sexcapades all across town, so she wore the blue dress Dave had picked out for her shortly after coming to Haven. She took the time to curl her hair like she used to and was still fussing with her makeup when Nathan rapped on the door.

She found him standing in his own hallway in a vest and shirt, clutching a bunch of blue flowers. His eyes raked over her appreciatively, and she smiled at how similar his outfit was to what he'd worn for his reunion. She'd found him particularly handsome that night, even if she hadn't worked up the nerve to tell him that.

There would be no more bashfulness over such matters. "Looking good, Wuornos."

"You look beautiful." The reverence in his tone made her blush. "These are for you," he said, handing her the flowers.

She'd tossed Chris's flowers out a window once, because she'd always thought buying someone flowers was a silly cliché and it was obvious he'd been trying too hard. But she had no urge to fling these anywhere. "You didn't have to…"

"Reminded me of your eyes," he said, and her heart swelled in an embarrassingly girly way. She hadn't expected today to actually feel like a first date.

"Thank you." She held them up to her face to give herself a few seconds to pull herself together. "We ought to get going."

"Are you finally going to tell me where, or do I never get to find out?"

In the past day she'd discovered he was very impatient about surprises, and she looked forward to using that to her advantage.

"I figured since most of the town hates us right now it'd be a relief to get away from gossiping eyes. I made us reservations at a little place in Derry called Fisherman's Cove. It's got great steak and seafood – at least according to the internet."

"I've heard of it. Supposed to be nice." For a moment he seemed pleased with the plan, and then something that looked almost like fear crossed his face. "You're not driving, are you?"

She swatted his shoulder. "Just for that, I should. But no, you can drive."

"I'm looking out for both of us. If I was in the car, how could I pull you out of it when you drive over a cliff?"

"Ha ha. That was one time. I'm a good driver."

She couldn't hold up under his incredulous look. "Fine. I'm an okay driver."

He still didn't seem convinced.

"You better watch it. I'll take your truck for a spin just to prove that I can handle it."

"I love you Parker, but don't you dare."

She laughed at his genuine concern. "Fine. I won't touch your precious truck. But if we don't get out of here we'll miss our reservation."

His hand lingered over her lower back as they walked to the Bronco, and although the gesture was unfamiliar she most decidedly didn't mind.

* * *

The Fisherman's Cove was bursting with coastal New England charm. When they stepped over the threshold Audrey felt like she had indeed walked into a fisherman's shack – albeit one that was large and extraordinarily well kept. There were nets draped across the graying walls and jars filled with seashells on every flat surface. She figured the candles flickering on each table had to be scented, because they were too far from the beach for the restaurant to smell so much like the ocean, otherwise. There was nothing subtle about the ambience, but Audrey found she didn't hate it. It was a tourist trap for the summer people, no doubt, but she'd grown used to that – Duke was more subtle about his decor but his livelihood also depended on these finicky visitors with the fat wallets.

Their waitress looked like she could have grown up in a house just like this one, but her smile was bright even though her hair was gray.

Audrey only needed one glance at the menu to decide what she wanted.

"You should get the scallops," Nathan recommended.

She scrunched her face. "I've never had scallops. Always thought they seemed slimy and gross."

"They're not. Best thing on the menu. I promise."

"Have you been here before?"

"Nope. But I know."

"I was going to get a lobster."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Then get the scallops."

She wasn't sure about the seafood, but he was confident and she was sure about him, so she ordered the scallops. He did the same, but he also added a lobster tail to her order.

"Thought the scallops were the best thing on the menu," she teased after the waitress had left.

"They are. That was just in case you don't have the taste buds of a normal person. Can't have you going hungry."

"Or maybe you're just racking up the bill because I'm paying."

He looked stricken for a moment. "You don't have to."

"Yeah I do. I'm a modern woman, and I asked you out. Besides, I've recently come into a bit of money. I have one fewer bill to pay, you know."

She was such a girl, but his eyes seemed to _twinkle_. At least it wasn't his skin. "So that's the real reason you moved in with me."

"Yep. Don't have to pay rent now. You found me out. I'm a gold-digger." There was something so easy about their banter when everything else was unfamiliar – from their surroundings to the fact she was wearing a dress and had spent more than five minutes on her makeup.

"Well if you're paying, maybe I should get us another bottle of wine."

"Go for it."

But perhaps she didn't have total control over her tone. He considered her with brows slightly raised. "Are you nervous, Parker?"

"Maybe," she admitted.

"Why? It's just me."

"That's the problem." She exhaled loudly, but had to keep her hands away from her face so she wouldn't mess up her curls. At the station she could fiddle with her hair as she pleased.

"I'm not following."

She wished she could get up to pace. She felt vulnerable and exposed sitting across from him, but she knew he deserved an explanation. She'd had a crazy case of jitters all day, and she was afraid they stemmed from more than a fear that he wouldn't like her date planning skills. "You're important to me. You matter in a way Chris never did. If I had a bad date with anyone else I could just forget about it and move on. But there's no moving on from you. I know it doesn't really matter if we're good at small talk and silly clichés because we're awesome at solving crime and helping the Troubled – but I want to be good at those things too. Because you are."

She waited for him to rebuke or dismiss her. He did neither, but she couldn't get a read on what he was thinking, and that unsettled her even more.

"I seem to recall you telling me on multiple occasions that I have no game."

His reactions to Jess had been slightly mortifying at every turn, but she regretted teasing him about them now that she realized how tricky this relationship stuff was. "But you do with me. You're always taking care of me and doing nice things and telling me the flowers match my eyes."

"You've already given me the best gift—"

But maybe that was really what this freak-out was about, she realized with a sinking stomach. Was that all she brought to the table, really? Without her magic touch, would their relationship fall apart? "I want to do more than just touch you. You deserve so much more than that."

"That wasn't what I was going to say. The touching's great. But the gift is you've always accepted me, whether I could feel you or not. To everyone else I've always been a freak. You see me as a man."

"That's because you are!" She reached out to grab his hand and realized she'd just proved her own point. Physical comfort had become instinctive. She sighed deeply, dropping her eyes so she didn't have to look at him – but she didn't drop his hand. She was starting to think she needed his touch as much as he needed hers. She wasn't used to that sort of dependency. "I'm afraid I've fallen into a pattern. Every time you're upset all I can think to do is touch you. And I don't want it to become something manipulative. I just – it's so easy to reach out to you, and I like to watch how relieved you get and know that I've done that– but it shouldn't be the only reaction I'm capable of. I don't want to take advantage of you."

She felt him raise her chin gently, forcing her to look at him. "I don't mind. Really."

She jerked away, annoyed. "That's not the point! I don't want you to be okay with me taking advantage of you. I want to not do it."

He stared at her as if she'd stumped him. "You're not as bad at this as you think you are," he finally said.

He was so completely shocked by her outburst that she knew he shared none of her concerns. "I'm over thinking this, aren't I?"

"Yeah. Relax."

She drank more wine, and the food arrived, and that helped. He was right – as hard as it was to force herself to take the first bite, the scallops were delicious, and by the time she'd finished them off their appearance and texture didn't even bother her. She was nearly full, so she let Nathan help her with the lobster tail, which he consumed with surprising relish.

"I thought you didn't like lobster."

"I never said that," he denied.

"You shoot it down every time I suggest it."

"Growing up in Maine, it's nothing special. Still good though. But pancakes are better."

She didn't admit that she was starting to think he might be right.

Despite her resolution to find other ways to relate to him, the conversation had been going well and she couldn't help herself - she slipped her shoe off under the table and stretched her leg until she found his. His eyes widened for a moment, but he seemed to write it off as an accident until she began sliding her foot deliberately up his leg.

He jerked and she giggled. "Something wrong?" she asked innocently, feeling like a teenager again.

He swallowed, and she watched him pull himself together. "You always so frisky on a first date?" His voice was lower than normal, and it rippled through her.

"Only with men I'm already living with." She slid her foot even higher and his eyes closed.

"Seems fair."

She wanted to do this more often.

He insisted that they look at a dessert menu even though she was stuffed. Though she gravitated toward the chocolate tort she let him order a blueberry crumble to share, which turned out to be perfection.

"Pretty good date," he said after she paid the bill.

"The night is still young, my friend. That was only the first activity on our agenda."

"So where next?"

"The movies."

"Something you want to see?"

"No. We're going to sit in the back and make out. Isn't that what couples do?"

She could really get used to his smile—his dimples and his straight white teeth and the way it made him look young and free. "Good plan," he drawled.

* * *

Turns out it wasn't.

"You thought we could make out to this?" Nathan grumbled five minutes into the movie, when it was impossible to concentrate on anything besides the rapid gunfire emanating from the screen.

"I didn't really think about it. It was supposed to be good, and it started at a convenient time."

"This is like a really bad day at work."

"And we're not supposed to make out there," she teased, leaning close to drag her lips up his neck.

Until a warehouse exploded and he jerked at the sound.

"Yeah, not gonna work," she sighed, dropping her head to his shoulder. "What are these guys doing, anyway? They're never gonna catch him like that."

A loud "Shhhhhh," came from somewhere in front of them.

"They probably wish we were making out too," Nathan whispered, completely deadpan. But when she glanced at him he was almost smiling.

She'd gotten so much better at telling when he was joking.

They judged the partners' police work through the entire movie, keeping up a snarky running commentary that earned them the displeasure of everyone sitting near them. Though it wasn't what she'd planned, it wasn't such a bad way to spend two hours, with Nathan's arm around her shoulder and his voice in her ear.

They solved the crime half an hour before the protagonists and were feeling rather proud of themselves when they exited the theater arm in arm. He held the door of his truck open for her, and it was only once they were both situated that she realized she didn't know how to move them to the last part of their night.

She'd expected to come out of the movie hot and bothered, making segueing easy. In the absence of that, she contemplated a clever way to bring up her plan and nearly just blurted it out when he reached out his hand to lay it gently on her wrist.

"Can I show you something?"

"Sure," she answered without hesitation, willing to follow him anywhere. He looked a little nervous, and curiosity sparked within her at where he could be taking her in a strange town in the middle of the night.

He drove a few minutes before parking at the end of a quiet street. He helped her out of the truck and led her up an embankment. The beach looked just like Haven's shoreline, with the moonlight reflecting off the ocean as waves gently lapped the sand. The wind carried the scent of saltwater and hardy living.

"I ran away when I was fourteen. Hitchhiked. Ended up on this beach."

Nathan rarely spoke of his past, and she was touched that he'd chosen to open up to her without any prompting.

"Why?" she asked softly.

"Got in a fight with my father. Don't even remember why. I'd just had enough. Wanted to get away."

"What happened?"

"Took him seventeen hours to find me. I spent the night here. Figured I'd gotten away with it. Then the Chief showed up and I thought he'd be livid. But he was relieved."

"He loved you," Audrey said. "He was terrible at showing it, but I know he did."

"I believed it, that day. But the feeling didn't last. Soon as I got my truck, I used to come up here when I needed to get away from everything."

"Plenty of beaches in Haven. Why come all the way up here?"

"Thought I could hide and no one would notice. Turns out Dad probably had the local force keeping an eye out for me. But it felt like an escape."

She tried to imagine brooding, gawky, teenage Nathan, butting heads with his irascible father. But all she could do was relive the interactions she'd actually witnessed. She wished the two of them had been able to work out their differences. Wished she'd been able to hold the Chief together like she'd held James Garrick.

"Walk with me?" he asked, holding out his hand.

She nodded, a shy smile crossing her face. Ignoring the fact she was inappropriately dressed for such an excursion, she reached down to slip off her heels. Dangling them from her right hand, she clasped her left hand in his.

Audrey Parker had grown up in Ohio, and she'd never laid eyes on a beach until spring break. Maybe that's why Haven fascinated her. Aside from the weirdness and the company there was something about the place that called to her. A serenity to be found staring out at the water. Tonight the siren's call was particularly strong, the ocean smooth as glass. The tide was low, and Audrey pulled Nathan toward to water.

"That'll be cold," he warned.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, dropped his hand, and then stepped into the surf.

It was like standing in a vat of ice. She jumped back with a squeak.

"Told you," Nathan drawled.

She crossed her arms. "I didn't think you were an expert on temperature, considering."

She knew he actually appreciated how she didn't dance around his affliction, even if half the assumptions she made were wrong.

"Some things you don't forget."

She smirked, a wicked idea forming. Maybe he knew, intellectually, that the water would be cold, but it had been far too long since he'd felt it.

Abandoning her shoes a few feet from the water's edge, she inched back toward the waves and plunged her hands into the surf.

Clenching her teeth against the shock of the chill, she spun on her heels and advanced on Nathan.

"Parker," he said warningly, but he didn't catch on to what she was doing quick enough to deter her from grabbing his face and cradling it between her wet and frigid hands.

He emitted an unmanly shriek, and she laughed at the shock that crossed his features, but she didn't let go.

He brought his face closer to hers, and she thought he was going to kiss her to warm himself, but he hesitated when there were still a few centimeters of distance between their mouths.

"Think you're funny, do you?" he whispered, and then instead of kissing her he scooped her into his arms and started walking toward the water.

"Nathan, no," she shrieked, pounding on his chest and laughing through her exclamations. She was almost certain he was kidding, but she did not want him to dump her in that water.

"Don't you dare! If you drop me I swear we're never going on another date! Put me down."

"If you insist." The world seemed to drop out from under her and she waited for the cold to engulf her, hardly believing what had gotten into Nathan – until she felt his arms around her again and he retreated from the water's edge.

"Not funny, mister," she scolded, but he was grinning as he set her back on her feet.

"Turnabout's fair play, Parker."

She supposed she expected nothing less.

He grabbed one of her hands and rubbed it between his as they continued their walk. The warmth was appreciated, but it didn't fully stave off the cold, and she couldn't help but shiver. When he noticed he took off his jacket and moved to drape it around her shoulders.

"Nathan, don't," she said, stepping out of his grasp.

"Calm down. I'm pretty sure it's date etiquette that the guy is supposed to give the girl his jacket if she's cold. I'm just lucky because I won't even miss it."

He did have a point, so she allowed him to help her into it. The sleeves were comically long, but it was warm and it smelled like his cologne.

Strange that – she'd never known him to wear cologne before – but nice. She didn't really wear dresses either.

They walked in comfortable silence, content in the uncharacteristic peace of this place. She could understand why he would come here when he needed to get away. How many times had she stared out into the water in Haven hoping that it would clear her mind?

Sometimes she wondered how her life would have changed if she'd never seen the Colorado Kid photograph. Would Haven's allure have been enough to keep her there if she'd been drawn by a normal case? If they'd found a perfectly reasonable explanation for Jonas Lester's death, would the serenity of the coast and small town living have been enough to catch her?

What about the man beside her?

Probably not, if she was being honest. She'd been too driven, too caught up in the job to allow herself to get distracted by simple pleasures. She would have thought Nathan was handsome, but she wouldn't have stuck around long enough to learn that he was also loyal and kind, noble and generous, and just the right amount of tortured to understand her fear of intimacy and shaky social skills.

If there'd been a reasonable explanation, perhaps he wouldn't have been tortured at all. He might have been happily settled, and the point would have been moot anyway.

She should have preferred that, but she didn't.

"It's so beautiful," she told him when she could contain the sentiment no longer. There wasn't much beauty in their work; there had been less in the FBI. Now she most often saw beauty in the relief on his face whenever she touched him.

"It gets under your skin. When I left for college I didn't plan on coming back. But I missed it. City was too quiet."

She wasn't exactly sure where the University of Maine was, but she doubted it was a thriving metropolis. Even if it was, his statement made little sense. "I've never heard anyone call cities quiet."

"People were noisy. But you couldn't hear the world."

She supposed that was true enough. Nature hadn't shown her face much in Boston, but she was a constant settler in Haven.

After awhile they retraced their steps, but instead of returning to the Bronco he led her to a bench at the base of the dunes. He sat down and she curled into his side, pulling her legs up on the bench beside her. His arm came around her shoulder and she breathed him in, utterly content.

"We should do this more often," he murmured.

"Pretend to be normal?" she quipped.

"Yeah."

"Okay." It had been hours since she'd thought about the Troubles or the Guard, and the realization was liberating. "But the next date's on you. And I think I set the bar pretty high, so it better be good."

"Think I can manage that."

His other hand reached out to casually brush the sand from her bare leg. The warmth of his touch traveled upwards, coiling below her stomach.

She wondered if he could feel arousal, or if only his brain knew when he wanted her.

He seemed to know when she wanted him, at any rate, because his lips twitched into a half smirk and his hand began to stray a bit higher than the sand had reached.

"First time we sat on a beach you said you couldn't fix me – no one could. Mighty glad you were wrong."

Something ached inside her that he'd thought she was writing him off as hopeless when really she'd meant exactly the opposite. She was no good at this touchy-feely vulnerable stuff. Apparently when she tried she only made things worse. "That's not what I meant."

But she couldn't think straight with his hand on her leg. She wasn't sure she could articulate this even without the distraction. Needing to try, she grabbed his wandering hand and pried it gently away. Unwilling to lose the contact entirely, she laced their fingers together and dropped them to the bench. His fingers tightened around hers, and she wondering if it was more reflex than choice.

"I didn't mean that you'd never feel again." She hated the thought of this beautiful, sensitive man so closed off from the world. Had hated it even then. "What I was trying to say was you were the only one who could convince yourself that being Troubled didn't make you broken. Because that was never how I saw you."

He gaped at her, and she felt herself blush under his scrutiny.

"I mean…"

"I was broken," he interrupted. "Until you came and fixed me."

"No," she said vehemently, and she wasn't immediately sure why this bothered her so much until she verbalized it.

"You did."

"What if you couldn't feel me?" she asked, suddenly terrified by how this conversation might go. "What would that have changed between us?"

"Nothing," he swore without hesitation. Something inside her relaxed.

"Then it wasn't my immunity to the Troubles that fixed you. What changed when I came to town?"

He paused to consider his answer. His thumb stroked across her palm, the gentle contact strumming through her because she knew how important it was to him. "I had someone to talk to. Joke around with. You were this beautiful, intriguing bundle of sass and nerve. And the more I got to know you, the more I wanted to be the kind of man who deserved to be by your side."

She couldn't imagine him as anything less. But she'd seen his insecurity, and knew she wouldn't be able to disavow him of the notion. Not tonight anyway.

"So you fixed yourself to become that man. It wasn't about what I could do. It was about you and me."

She wondered if she'd ever get over the desperate need to be more than her identity crisis and the destiny that came with it. "Chris couldn't understand the distinction. He liked that I was immune to his charm – but only when it suited him. He needed me to feel normal, but he still wanted the power his Trouble gave him. I don't want to be valued for something I have no control over."

She was shocked to feel warmth building behind her eyes and she couldn't stop a tear from falling. Mortified, she hoped the moonlight would hide any sign of her weakness.

But he had more than perfect vision, and he was watching her closely. His hand reached up to cup her jaw, and one finger brushed away the tear, though he didn't otherwise acknowledge it. "I love _you_, Audrey," he said so earnestly it was impossible to suppose any falsehood in it. "Would even if I couldn't feel you."

She was going to have to let go of this insecurity, she decided, because it hurt him every time she questioned his motives. And it wasn't even that she doubted him, not really. It was life she didn't trust – that anything as good as his love for her could really be true. Because everything she believed in crumbled, eventually – her past and her future and who she was and even the belief that she was meant to help the Troubled. Except for him. Even that had gotten rocky for awhile, but he was here now, all adoration and guileless devotion – and what had she ever done to deserve him?

But God, she wanted him. And maybe she was no better than Chris, because she needed him too – needed his unwavering faith in her, his reassurances of her identity, his reliable advice and his good policework and even his touch, so reverently given. Those weeks she'd pushed him away she'd barely held herself together.

"I know. That's what makes the fact you can a gift instead of a dealbreaker."

He dropped his hand to her shoulder and tangled his fingers in a few of her curls. "Fate."

It seemed important to him, and with everything they'd learned about her past, she didn't have any reason to deny the theory. "Sure," she said with a shrug, settling back against him.

She could feel his breath warm against her neck, and he pressed a feather light kiss there before whispering in her ear, "Think I've found a flaw in this date."

It was hard to be coy when she wanted to feel his lips on her again, but she managed it. "Was it my choice in movies? Or my insecurity about this whole touching thing?"

"Nope. It's the fact that it's late and we're a long way from Haven, and all I want is a place to make love to you." His voice was thick and sweet like maple syrup, and she felt her knees quake from their place on the bench.

Good thing one or two of her former selves must have been a Girl Scout.

"There's a bed and breakfast down the road. I booked us a room and told them we'd get in late."

His dazzling smile promised that the night was only beginning. "Have I told you lately how brilliant you are?"

She grinned back. "You can never say that too often."

He rose and pulled her up the beach after him. "Brilliant. Beautiful. Though a bit presumptuous. It's only a first date, after all. What if I didn't put out?"

His tone and phrasing made her think of a finicky teenage girl, and she threw back her head and laughed. "You're a pretty easy mark, Wuornos. It was a safe bet I could win you over."

"That so?" he asked, his voice a smoldering dare, and none of Audrey's other relationships had ever been so effortlessly fulfilling. Despite everything going on in their lives, he made her _happy_.

"You'll see," she promised, and she took off up the dunes. But his longer legs and her restricting dress meant he soon gained the lead, and when he got tired of waiting he picked her up and kept on going. Her protests were only for show as she felt his pulse racing through his neck where her hands were clamped over it and watched his eyes shine down at her with unbridled admiration. She wanted to stay with him forever, just like this. Safe in his arms, they laughed all the way back to the Bronco.

_No I won't give up  
No I won't back down  
Never ever gonna let you go  
Now you pull me in and I feel so free  
I wanna do to you what you do to me  
Yeah you lift me up I never been so high  
Now you're making me feel that I'm alive  
No matter what I do, I always want more of you_

More of You, Goo Goo Dolls

* * *

**The plot returns next chapter with a vengeance. I'd love to get this finished before the new season starts, but that's looking a little unlikely unless I can get myself more motivated.**

**As always, I'd love to hear what you think.**


End file.
